Good King Hohenheim
by Monica Moss
Summary: In the kingdom of Amestris, there is a foster child who wishes to know his real family. When Roy Mustang tells him royal secrets, Al decides that he will do anything to get his family back together. Meanwhile, Prince Edward, preparing to take the kingdom back from Father, just wants his family to stay safe. AU.
1. Prologue

**This story is finally ready to start posting. I hope you enjoy the read, but please let me know what you think. The prologue's very short, but I'm posting Chapter I today too. It will probably be out in less than an hour.**

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Prologue

In between Creta and the Great Desert lay a seemingly peaceful kingdom called Amestris. Being back in the days when doing magic was commonly thought of as asking a higher power for a favor, the inhabitants honored their sorcerer-king to gain even more of his good intention than he naturally had toward his subjects.

But currently, the golden-eyed sorcerer was sitting in his dungeons instead of on his throne. In the cold, damp place, rodents pitter-pattered across the floor, and the king, Van Hohenheim, could hear more of what was going on around him than he could see. Nevertheless, he looked upward as though that could help him see what was going on up in the rest of Central Castle.

Somewhere above him was a nursery that had held until recently both of his young sons. If his knight, Roy Mustang, had been able to keep his promise, then Edward was still up there in the knight's care.


	2. Chapter I

Chapter I

A young man named Al, known to most as a Curtis, stepped up to a frost-covered stand outside Dublith's local community center, Dublith Royal. Dublith Royals's stand was just one of the many vendors lining the town square, but while others sold steaming-hot drinks or simple toys for children, this one sold magic items – Mr. Cornello said so himself.

Over the fiddler's festive ditty, Al asked, "Do you have anything that can reunite me with my birth family yet?"

Cornello smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I know you're from one of the richer peasant families, but magic that powerful is very expensive. Are you sure you'd rather not just buy a measure of luck? I've got plenty of these cards."

The government worker tried to interest Al in images of Amestris' deceased queen, a soft-faced woman who was said to have been a kind soul. It was said that the queen could now ward off clouds of bad luck from the other side of the Gate, but Al shook his head. "I've been saving up. I want to see if I can pay for something that will let me meet them. I mean, the Curtises swear some of my blood relatives are still alive, that they're just looking after me for the time being."

"I see." Cornello pulled out a carved block of wood from under the stand. "It's almost a shame to part with this – it was blessed by the prince himself. It's a little less expensive than the ones blessed by the king, the prince only being half-sorcerer and all, but it should still work just fine for your wish."

Al looked at the little wooden block. It was thin – it wouldn't be noticeable if he carried it under his tunic. It was small too – about a thumb-width across and two thumb-widths tall. But it was beautifully carved, its edges rounded off.

"It grants one wish," Cornello explained. "It uses your belief in the prince's magic to influence things in your wish's favor once you find someone the royals gifted with magic to write it down for you. I must warn you that it will take time."

"How much?" Al asked, but when the government worker named his price, his eyebrows shot up. "It's that expensive?"

Cornello chuckled. "It was blessed by the prince himself, after all." On seeing Al's crestfallen face, he reached across his stand to put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'll tell you what – since you've helped out a lot at Dublith Royal, I'll give it to you for half price and pay the rest myself."

"Really?" Al's golden eyes caught a gleam of the late-morning sun. "Thank you!" He pulled his money pouch out from around his neck and emptied his coins into his hand and handed them to Cornello. On receiving the wooden wish, Al placed it into his much lighter money bag and put it back where it was concealed underneath his thick woolen clothing.

As Al bounced away from the stand, Cornello waved goodbye. "Enjoy the rest of the festival, and remember that you have to believe in the magic."

Al waved goodbye and ran to join in a snowball fight some other young people were having. He ducked behind a low wall made of snow and started making some snowballs.

When he could get Sir Mustang to write his wish on his new charm, he would be on the way to finding his family. But for now, Al would enjoy himself at the festival to celebrate Amestris' only prince's coming-of-age. It wasn't like the knight would be around his hometown at a time like this anyway – Al was sure security was extra-important for the royal birthday.

Al quickly fled from behind the wall as a girl with a good aim leaped over it, carrying a stash of snowballs in one arm. He dodged a flying white shape and laughed at the near-hit.

For half an hour he played and enjoyed the merry atmosphere. He was perfectly at ease when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Al looked up at a smirking, well-groomed man. A smile found its way back onto Al's face. "Sir Mustang! Are you not needed at Central Castle?"

Mustang took his hand off Al's shoulder and gestured for the young man to follow him. "I've got something to discuss with you. Your parents are waiting for us at their home."

Al tried to keep a conversation going while he and the knight slipped through the crowd in the town's center and through the icy streets. "Are you going to stay for the festival?"

"Can't," Mustang said tersely. All traces of his earlier smirk had left in favor of a more serious expression. "Not at a time like this."

Al nodded. "I guess there must be something important if you're here the day the prince turns sixteen. Is something wrong with Amestris?"

"You mean other than everything?" Mustang and Al were away from the festival now and in the less crowded streets approaching the edge of town. "It's Prince Edward's coming-of-age. He's old enough that he could rule if he chose to take the throne away from King Van."

Al clutched at the spot of his tunic that concealed the money bag with the charm in it and wrapped his hand around the shape of the small wooden block. All he'd ever wanted was to know his own family, and he hears hints that the royals may be having problems within their family, tensions over power. And they were supposed to set the example as the most magical family in Amestris too, having the only two people in Amestris born with their magic.

Al and Mustang slowed their steps as they approached a stick and straw structure with some chickens strutting about in front of it. The two were greeted by smoke and a crackling fire. The Curtis couple looked up from stools on the side of the room and stood to pay respects to the knight entering their home. "For goodness sake, sit down!" said Mustang, taking his own seat on the end of the row of stools, leaving a spot open for Al between him and Izumi. "It's just me, and this may be a long discussion."

Al took a seat next to his adoptive mother, releasing his grip on the charm under layers of fabric. He'd hate to ask Mustang for such a favor at such a bad time. He'd ask before the knight left Dublith, if he could, just not now.

The knight was clasping his hands together and leaning onto his elbows, setting them on his knees and ignoring propriety. Speaking to the Curtis parents, he asked, "Do you think your young prince is ready?"

"He may never be, but now's as good a time as any," Izumi answered.

Al looked between the knight and Izumi. "Ready for what? And what does this have to do with us?"

The adults exchanged looks. Izumi wrapped an arm around Al, and the males looked at Al with unusually soft expressions on their faces.

Al's eyes widened. "Is Prince Edward going to try to take the throne from his father? Have you come to get our support?" He lowered his gaze. "Is this why you helped Mom and Dad teach me to fight?"

"I know how you must feel," said Mustang, "but please forgive Prince Edward –he is not being disloyal to his family. It's that if he waits much longer to claim the throne, his life will be endangered by the one who currently possesses it. If you were part of his family, who would you be more worried about?"

Al wrapped his left arm around his chest, his right arm returning to grip the charm under his clothes. "I don't know – two members of my family would be trying to kill each other."

"The prince loves his father," Sig said.

Mustang nodded. "Prince Edward is doing as his father advised him to do – the one who sits on the Amestrian throne is not King Van."

Al gripped his charm a little more firmly than necessary and looked around at all the adults on the table. Not a one held a hint of amusement on their face as though they were trying to pull his leg. "It's not King Van…?" Al sat there for a moment, then shook his head. He spewed forth a question just as Mustang was opening his mouth to say something: "What makes you think it's not King Van?"

"The true king is locked in his dungeon, and an impostor sits on the throne."

"But the king's magic! Only two people in this country were born with magic."

Mustang shook his head. "The impostor was too. He came in secret from outside this country and took King Van's place. Fourteen years ago, I warned King Van myself that the nobles were coming to replace him with an immortal lookalike – an enemy of his called Father. I'd overheard the nobles' plan and knew the entire family was in immediate danger, except for the older prince, who they'd made plans for. King Van allowed himself to be captured to ensure his younger son's safety."

Al looked at his mother. "King Van has another son? What happened to him? Was he born with magic too? Does Prince Edward even know about his brother?"

"The younger prince is safe," his mother said. "And it's a good thing he wasn't born with magic – he's lucky he hasn't aroused suspicion as it is with his looks."

Mustang cleared his throat. "Alphonse," he asked, "didn't you ever wonder why the Curtises never told you about your birth family?"

Al released his charm and stared at the knight. He watched with wide eyes as the knight stood and bowed to him. He glanced momentarily toward his parents as Mustang straightened up, and his parents just smiled at him.

Mustang was already starting to explain his action by the time Al looked back at him. "You are the second son of Van Hohenheim, and Prince Edward's younger brother, Prince Alphonse of Amestris."

Al could only gape at the knight for a moment. "Me?" He blinked hard and looked back over at his parents, who were also starting to stand and bow. "Please, don't." The newly revealed prince got to his feet. "It's too weird. There's no way I'm a prince."

"I rescued you from Central Castle and delivered you to the Curtises myself," said Mustang. "Your father, and for some time, your older brother, has been trusting me with your safety, Your Highness."

Al slowly sank back down to the bench, staring at nothing in particular. He didn't even notice Mustang walk around behind him until the knight put a hand on his shoulder. "Your brother wanted me to tell you. We don't know when I'll be able to check up on you again – I've got to stay with him to protect him as he takes the kingdom back from Father, and he wants you to remain in hiding."

The younger prince looked up at the knight, face almost creepily devoid of expression. "Prince Edward and King Van – are they really my family?"

Mustang wore a smile and gazed off in the distance, seemingly toward Central Castle. "They really do love you, you know. King Van gave everything to keep you and your brother safe, and Prince Edward... Well, ever since he was old enough to keep your survival a secret, I've been telling him stories about you whenever I come back from a trip to Dublith. He's looking forward to being able to meet you one day."

Al's eyes crinkled in the corners and a smile crept onto his face. "I don't really believe I'm a prince, but I'm glad you told me – I've been wanting to know about my birth family too for the longest time."

"I can tell you some stories about your family if you wish. Not the ones you'd get in those sticky-fingered community centers either."

Al frowned at the description and slowly lifted his gold eyes until they met Mustang's coal ones. "They're just trying to help connect regular Amestrians with the king."

Mustang shrugged. "They're run by people, who don't always do what your family wants them to. Your brother, as much as he enjoys attention, was raised to feel awkward actually being made out as superior to regular humans."

Izumi squeezed her adoptive son's shoulder. "This guy does know your family personally. Why don't you listen to a few stories?"

Al mulled it over for a moment and agreed. He listened as Mustang started telling a story about Prince Edward teaming up with some sword-smith's blue-eyed daughter to get some unruly knights away from the unfinished goods one time when she'd come to Central Castle to help her dad with business.

Mustang stayed as long as he could, but after an hour or so, he had to leave. The knight froze on the way out the door. "That's right! I have a message for you from your brother. He says, 'When Amestris is safe again, I'll send for you. I'll be sure to succeed, so look forward to it.'"

Al had been smiling, but his smile vanished, being replaced by a hollow feeling inside his chest. "Sir Mustang, I know you need to get going soon, but could you carry a reply message? Could you tell my brother to be safe?"

"Of course." Mustang gazed down at Alphonse and said, "You're the next in line to try taking the kingdom back if anything happens to him, but I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't come to that. Rest assured, I will guard him with my life."

With a final bow, the knight left to find his horse.

* * *

Ed stood in a stone hallway, at the doorway of the servants' quarters, watching some of the servants put the possessions of a deceased little girl and her dog into a crate. He was caught off-guard by someone putting an arm behind his back. "She was just a servant's girl."

Ed looked to his side. "Father," he greeted.

The prince looked incredibly like the immortal monster standing beside him, and he was secretly glad they were not related. Still, ever since Mustang had first taken him to visit his real father in the dungeons, being near Amestris' current ruler was unnerving. Especially recently - only an inch or two stopped them for looking similar enough that the immortal could impersonate him immediately to extend his reign. And Mustang was sure that the prince was not done growing.

"Perhaps common servants should not have been entrusted with magic," Father said, frowning at the look on Ed's face.

The prince shook his head. "I don't think he abused power because he was a servant. People of higher status abuse it as well." Ed wriggled out of Father's grasp. "Anyways, weren't you the one who lent him your magic in the first place? You'd heard that Shou Tucker had an unhealthy fascination with magical creatures. You could have prevented him from trying to make a talking dog."

The prince's eyes held fire like a flaming sword, immersed in the sunlight streaming from a nearby window, as he glared at the current king of the land.

Father looked away. "You're too sympathetic to lower castes. Anyway, I didn't particularly care if Tucker tried to make magical creatures, but he did overstep what we'd authorized him to do with my magic when he used it without checking with us first. We should prevent this from happening again by taking our magic back from the servants – Shou Tucker is not the only one with questionable interests."

Ed snorted. "Should we take our magic from the knights while we're at it? Some of them have questionable interests as well. I quite enjoy having servants capable of making magically strengthening food and stuff."

Father was no longer averting his gaze from the angry prince. His lips were turning downward, almost starting to point toward the dungeons. "Spell the food yourself. I want you to take the magic from all the servants you gifted it to – from now on, for a servant to possess magic is a capital crime."

Ed crossed his arms and looked back into the servants' quarters. The royal servants had finished packing up the little girl's things and were putting a lid on the crate. "Fine, I will."

"By the way, what did you do with Shou Tucker? He was your personal servant."

A casual observer could have felt the atmosphere darken at the question. "I don't know what type of person could do that to own child," the prince started, "but I don't want them near me. Now, I'm not king – I can't judge crimes committed inside the castle walls – but I did fire Shou. I had him thrown in the dungeons for you to deal with."

Father nodded. "You need a new servant then. I can make a few suggestions."

Ed turned his back on Father, crossing his arms across his chest once again. "You got me my last servant, and look how well that turned out. I've asked the knights to keep an eye out for potential servants. I'd rather choose from among the ones they recommend."

Father silently surveyed him for a moment. "Very well, I'll allow it. Where's Mustang? I want his opinion on the Tucker incident. Shou may simply have not gotten authorization rather than doing prohibited magic, but it wouldn't look good for us to let him off leniently if it resulted in a death."

"I sent him on an errand to his hometown a few days ago, but he should be back sometime today. I'll have him look into it then."

Having finished speaking to Father, Ed returned to his own chambers and glared at a shelf of books built into the wall by his bed. Books on sorcery of all kinds – including, yes, talking animals. Was it from them that Shou had learned how to change his daughter?

The prince grabbed the nearest sorcery books and threw them onto the floor. Books fell open and pages rustled during the prince's fit of rage.

"That is your first line of defense, isn't it?" a voice came from Ed's chamber door.

Ed turned toward a knight who was currently out of his armor and instead wearing a cloak decorated with a fireball in front of the Amestrian dragon. "Mustang." Tears remained in the prince's golden eyes as they traveled upwards to meet the older man's coal-black ones.

As though the prince had just noticed, he hastily wiped the tears with his fingers. "I'm glad not everyone who works for me is a monster." The prince lowered himself onto the deerskin blanket that covered his bed. "How'd it go?"

The knight turned and placed a magical seal over the door. "It's a lot for him to wrap his head around, but I'm sure he'll manage. He said to tell you to be safe."

Ed nodded. "He'll be safe himself, won't he?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't." Mustang took a few steps forward into the prince's chambers and squatted down in front of the young man, frowning. "What happened while I was away?"

Mustang could almost feel the anger radiating out of Ed's face as the prince said, "Shou Tucker attempted to fuse his daughter and her dog to make a talking animal. He killed them both in the process, so nothing can be done for them." Ed's head snapped up and he fixed his knight a look. "You'll help me find a better servant, won't you? You've always been looking after me."

Mustang smirked. "What do you want me to do?"


	3. Chapter II

**Merry Christmas to all my lovely readers, reviewers, followers, and to everyone who's added this story to their favorites. I'm hoping to get another chapter or two of ISLY out before Friday, but no promises. I hope you enjoy your reading experience for this chapter.**

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Chapter II

Al heard the rumor spreading around Dublith several days after Prince Edward's coming-of-age: there was a knight in town, and it wasn't Mustang either. Some knight named Armstrong had ridden into town and was demanding someone to look after his horse.

Al supposed it wasn't the smartest thing to do if he really was a prince in hiding from an impostor on his father's throne, but he really wanted to go check it out. Because if Prince Edward really was his brother, Al wanted to know if this new knight was loyal to him at least.

A couple other young men who could be spared made their way to the inn where Armstrong was staying. There, they met an intimidating-looking muscular bulk of a man, who was clad in the mail of a knight and carrying a shield of pink stars.

The knight, Armstrong, towered over each young man and asked why he should hire them for the duration of his stay. Most cowered slightly, and Al had to remind himself that he was doing this for his brother.

"When I was a baby, the Drachmans attacked my home," Al said, the start of a familiar lie. "My family was killed, and I barely survived. When you knights arrived to the survivors' aid, Sir Mustang found me and took pity on me. He brought me here and gave me to a childless couple, where he knew I'd have a good home. I was hoping you could convey my gratitude for him."

Al smiled. "Thanks to you knights and the royal family, I've been safe here in my new home. It would be an honor to look after your horse while you're here. It would be an honor to serve those who protect Amestris, who are loyal to King Van and Prince Edward."

Al looked up at the blond knight, who'd gotten a bit teary-eyed during his speech.

"Boy, what's your name?"

"I'm known as Al Curtis."

Armstrong brought a hand to rest between Al's shoulders, sniffing. "Al Curtis, how noble for Mustang to rescue you! How good your heart to express such gratitude!"

Al blushed. "Uh, thank you?"

"Can you handle a horse?" Armstrong offered Al the reigns. "I'll pay you well to look after her during my stay."

Al took the reigns and bowed to the knight, showing the respect due to a knight of Amestris from a commoner. He was raised a commoner, and he would remain a commoner still. "I'll do my best, Sir Armstrong."

Al couldn't find where Armstrong's loyalties lay, but he gave the knight's animal the best care he could for the next day and a half, while Armstrong looked for an outlaw suspected to be hiding in town. Al even figured out how to saddle the horse up when it was time for Armstrong to leave, the knight having found no outlaw in the town.

Al walked Armstrong's horse to the front of the inn and met the knight there. Armstrong took the reigns, but he did not mount his horse. The knight gazed down at Al with blue eyes. "Prince Edward is looking for a new servant. I believe he would be very pleased to have one like you, Al Curtis. Will you come to Central Castle?"

Al's breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Armstrong, wide-eyed. It slipped his mind that he'd never found out where the knight's loyalties lie when he was asked to go to Central Castle. "Me?" Even if he wasn't really Prince Alphonse, then becoming one of the royal servants was still a great opportunity for him. Imagine, him, living in a castle!

And if he was Prince Alphonse, then he'd finally get to meet his brother at least.

Armstrong nodded and responded to Al's disbelief at the chance he'd been offered. "You've proven yourself worthy."

"I-" Al paused for just a moment. A warning ran through his mind: Amestris was still unsafe, and his brother wanted him to remain in hiding. He took a breath. If he went to Central Castle as a servant, he would still be in hiding, right? He'd just be able to meet his brother, and maybe be able to help out if he could. "I'd be honored."

The knight beamed so brightly that he seemed to sparkle. "Excellent. You have some time to gather some things and say your goodbyes – we leave at noon."

Al didn't gather many things for himself: just his spare clothing and his wooden charm. Even if his wish was coming true, maybe it would come in handy.

Before he left, Al wrapped his arms around the Curtises and told them of his good fortune. Even if he'd found his birth family, the Curtises would always be his family too.

* * *

Between the knights, nearly a dozen candidates had been brought to Central Castle. They were all standing in a row and being checked by the knights for concealed weapons.

Ed watched this from his chambers in one of Central Castle's many towers. Mustang stood behind him.

"Ed, we should head out there."

"Yeah," the prince agreed, but he remained at the window. "Do you think they'll all check out?"

"If not, Armstrong will take care of them by the time we get down there." The knight put a hand on one of the prince's shoulders and led him away from the window, hand dropping back by his side by the time the two left the room.

Mustang gave Ed interviewing tips all the way to the grounds, and the prince listened for once, perhaps more shaken up by Shou Tucker than he'd care to admit. The prince's eyes scanned the ten potential servants as he and Mustang approached. "They're all young..."

"It would seem like our knights were looking for able-bodied men who'd be willing to leave their families behind – they remember how much Nina upset you. It's the young ones who aren't married yet that could come out."

Ed ran his eyes up and down the row of candidates again, as though looking for something in them. He almost missed Mustang's startled words behind him: "What's he doing here?"

Ed glanced back to his most trusted knight. "Someone you recognize?"

Mustang nodded and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Your brother is here. That young man standing between those two redheads."

The prince focused on his brother. "That's Al?"

"He shouldn't be here. He's inherited your father's golden eyes – and those are just too recognizable. I told him it's dangerous. You've got to send him home."

Ed nodded, not taking his eyes off his brother. This was the kind, thoughtful Al he'd gotten to know through Mustang's stories, the little brother he'd always wanted to meet. But Mustang was right that Al wasn't safe here.

The crown prince forced his eyes off Al. Stepping in front of the row, he looked slowly up and down, as though in thought. Finally, he fixed his eyes on his younger brother again and gestured for Al to follow him as he walked across the snowy grounds.

Once there was enough distance between them and the other candidates waiting with Mustang and Armstrong, Ed glanced around at all the shadows. Nothing seemed out of place.

"Mustang asked a very good question on our way here," he said. "What are you doing here, Alphonse?"

Al shuffled his feet in the compact white stuff that had once been a beautiful coat of snow. "I know I'm supposed to be in hiding, but I had to come."

Ed scowled and shot him a look.

As the silence started to drag on, Al explained himself with a slight stutter. "I've wanted to meet my birth family all my life, and now that I know who you are, I'm worried. Sir Mustang told me about the impostor..."

The older prince pinched his nose and released it slowly. "Alphonse, if you stay here, you'll be killed. Besides, don't you have a family in Dublith?"

"They know I'm here." Al spoke quietly and examined the remains of some snow angel beneath his feet.

"And I'm sure they'll be happy to see you come home. You can't stay here – Father and his advisers will recognize you right away. It's in your eyes."

Then, at last, Al peeked up with watery golden orbs, looking back down rather quickly. "I've got family here too, don't I?" Inhaling deeply, as though mustering up his guts, Al slowly lifted his eyes to remain at his brother's eye-level. "And they're in trouble. I thought if I came as a servant, I'd remain in hiding and be able to help out."

For the first time, Ed realized what a powerful effect his younger brother could have on him. They'd never met, but he still loved Al. Why did he have to know that his brother's only wish was to meet him and their real father?

The older prince looked away when he realized what his brother was doing to his resolve. "Well, I guess we could do something to disguise your eyes, but I'm not sure we could protect you inside this castle."

The next thing out of the younger brother's mouth was a single word: _please_. It was all Ed could do to keep from looking back at Al, even before his younger brother continued speaking. "If anything happened to you," Al said, "I'd have to try to get the kingdom back, right? You couldn't protect me then. We might as well face Father together."

Ed shook his head. "Nothing will happen to me, Al." It was a promise. "I'll vanquish Father and his followers, and then I'll send for you to come home."

He turned to smile at his younger brother, and when he did, he saw the change in Al's body language: no longer was he acting as shy and nervous. The signs were still there – trembling hands, shaky breaths – but Al's gaze was not pointing downwards, instead remaining fixed on his older brother. His heels were dug firmly into the earth, feet shoulder-width apart, and he was standing up perfectly straight. It was as though he'd gotten up the courage to stand up to the brother he'd known as the prince his whole life. Ed could swear he recognized the same emotion in his brother's eyes that he often had himself: determination.

He blinked and looked away. "You were born to be so much more than a servant, Alphonse..."

"I guess I wasn't born to be a commoner either." Al's voice grew softer. "I'll become a servant if it will help repair this broken family. If you'll let me, I mean."

Ed turned to look back toward where Mustang and Armstrong were talking to the nine other young men who'd come, hoping to become a servant that day. Any one of them could take the spot Al was trying for, and Al could be sent back to Dublith, safe. But...

"If I sent you back to the Curtises, what would you do?"

Al's voice broke. "I- I don't know. I'd keep training, I guess, even if Sir Mustang can't come around to help me anymore. And I'd pray for you, not that I wouldn't do that here. But if I went home, I think I'd just worry about you until I had to come see for myself that you're still alive."

When Ed turned around, Al's confident stance had faded, but Al had already convinced him. He put a hand under his brother's chin and lifted his head to meet his eyes. "Close your eyes for a moment."

"Brother...?"

"If you're going to stay here, I'm going to have to change your eyes for a while. I need you to close them."

Al's eyes lit up. "Really? You mean it?"

"Just close your eyes."

Al did. Ed gently put his pointer and index fingers over each of his brother's eyes and relaxed his body, closing his own eyes. He pictured Al's face with one slight alteration to his eye color. "Brown."

Ed pulled his hands back to himself. "You can open your eyes now."

His younger brother opened his eyes, revealing a rather bright hue of yellowish brown. The disguise was not as strong as Ed had intended, but it would work.

Casually, Ed turned back toward the knights and the young men who wanted to be servants. "Come on." The older prince avoided looking at Mustang as he said, "Tell them the spot is full."

* * *

Al followed Ed around on a tour of the castle, staying at least a full step behind him. His brother frowned, but didn't say anything. Frankly, Al was amazed that he was being allowed to stay at the castle at all, given everything he knew about what was going on.

But as the crown prince had started to show him the frozen fields surrounded by the castle walls, where a handful of knights were training against each other with swords, Al thought about how he'd never been in a place that made him feel so small. Could he handle staying here?

Al sneaked a peek at the back of his brother's blond hair, neatly braided down his back. His brother's eyes, he knew, were the same golden color as his own. That same impossible golden color. It was proof that they really were related, and Al had made up his mind that he would do anything for his family. The still-new weight of the wooden charm around his neck would remind him of how much he'd wanted this the first few days whenever he was alone.

As he spotted Armstrong's horse among the ones in the stables, he swore to himself that he'd stick by his brother, no matter what it took. He found it a little easier after that to take in the sheer size of the castle, which operated as its own city, even needing its own well or two. He even relaxed enough to smile when his brother leaned against a tree trunk with one hand and pointed toward the top, sporting a goofy grin on his face and saying that, in the summer, its thick branches were the best spot in the castle to hide from evil, annoying, immortal invaders.

Al's brother showed him the castle's paved courtyard, the kitchens, and the servants' quarters, helping Al to relax a bit whenever he caught him with his family-specific golden eyes and his bright, welcoming grin.

They saw many nice things on their tour of the castle – a real floor, colorful tapestries covering the draftier spots of the castle, and even some lavatories. They were on their way to see the princely quarters when Al caught sight of a couple knights accompanying a figure in a violet robe. "Bro... Prince Edward," Al said softly, looking at the scene. "Is that Father?"

The prince's head turned. "It is," he replied, expressionless. "Try not to attract his attention."

As Al bowed to show the current king the respect he expected, he heard a smooth voice say, "Edward, I see you've gotten a new servant."

"This is Al Curtis of Dublith. Al, this is King Van of Amestris."

Al greeted the king quietly and respectfully. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty."

Father's eyes drifted to Al, but it was to Prince Edward that he directed his question. "You haven't given him magic, have you?"

Al's brow creased. What did Father mean by giving him magic? He didn't understand the way things worked around this huge castle yet.

Ed shook his head in response to the question. "Of course not."

The fake king frowned at Edward, as though he didn't quite buy the answer.

"Relax," said Ed. "I'm not going to give magic to just anyone. I don't want a repeat of Shou Tucker."

Father took his gaze off the older prince. "Regardless, he has arrived at a most convenient time. The dungeon masters have gotten a full confession from your former servant. He will be publicly executed tomorrow, when Mustang agreed to help. Perhaps it would be best for this boy to watch it, just in case."

Al had started to fiddle with a loose thread on his coat, but he'd stopped when Father abruptly turned toward him for that last sentence. He froze. His lips parted, as if he would answer the king, but even if he'd really intended to speak, his mouth was dry.

He inwardly thanked his brother when Ed spoke up. "I don't think so. I expect Al to be rather busy, seeing how I've been without a servant lately. There are some things he needs to catch up on."

Al managed to close his mouth, but even looking down at the loose thread in his fingers, he couldn't quite manage to let go of that without a bit of fumbling.

"You wanted a servant who would behave," Father said. "Giving him an example of what happens to servants who don't behave will certainly help him act how you want him to." Father stared Ed down for a moment before the prince crossed his arms and nodded.

Father turned the direction he'd been heading. "I can't talk longer – I have an important meeting with my advisers. I suggest you make it clear how you feel about certain things." He waved a back-handed goodbye as he and his guards walked off down the corridor.

Ed shivered. "I hate that creep," he grumbled. "And I hate his advisers too. Mustang says they're not even human, him and his seven advisers." Ed was glancing around the corridor as if to check if Father or any of his cronies were still within earshot.

"And they're the ones you need to defeat?" Al looked at his brother, who had his arms crossed and a foul expression on his face.

"They're the ones I didn't want you near." Ed spoke in a low voice, glancing around the shadows as though looking for something. He seemed as vulnerable as a regular person at that moment, not the infallible prince Al had heard stories about in Dublith Royal, despite the sorcery Ed had done earlier in disguising Al's eyes.

"I want to help," Al said. "I just hope we can handle everything. But maybe... you study sorcery, right?"

"Yeah. Dad's a sorcerer, and I've inherited his magic. Born sorcerers like Dad and I, and Father too," here, Ed made a face, "we can give it to others as we see fit too. Currently, the royal family and the Amestrian knights have the authority to use magic. Among other things, we study it to be able to defend our lives and our country, and we shouldn't have to worry about burning for it." Ed's lips turned downward. "Have you ever seen anyone burn, Al?"

"No."

"It's horrible. I wouldn't wish that death on anyone, even with how Tucker used magic. And that's what Father wants to make you watch tomorrow."

They said nothing more until they arrived at a wooden door, which Ed opened. "Right then. These are my quarters."


	4. Chapter III

**Just as I thought I'd have enough time to catch up on replying to all my awesome reviewers after Christmas. I'd just finished the final revisions on this chapter when I found out that I need to take an emergency trip north today. I wanted to get this up today anyway, so I had just enough time with all the packing and stuff I need to do to run this through a spelling and grammar check instead of doing a more detailed proofreading myself, but it looks like I won't have time to reply to any reviews today. :(**

 **Anyway, here's the chapter for you all.**

* * *

Chapter III

Ed let his brother into his chambers, which were made of a single stone room with tapestries adorning the walls. In the middle of the room was Ed's bed, a large mattress on a wooden frame, topped with pillows and blankets. The room was also furnished with a nightstand, a writing desk, and a bookshelf attached to the wall.

Ed didn't know how it looked to someone who'd been raised like Al had, but he suspected the effect would have been better if his room was clean. Currently, Ed's bed was unmade, his belongings were scattered over the floor, crumbs and rodent droppings were scattered across the room, and dust had built up on all the furniture.

"Somehow, I never pictured a castle as quite this messy," said Al.

Ed nodded slightly. He'd known Al wouldn't have as clear of a picture of life at Central Castle as he should have, having been raised away for his own safety. "I said I haven't had a servant in a couple weeks, and I've never had to clean my own room. I barely know how to dress myself."

Al knelt down on the floor and started gathering shirts that were covered in dried sweat. "Then I guess it's my job to take care of this now."

Fidgeting, Ed watched Al gathering laundry for a few moments before he turned to the door and placed an enchantment on it that left it glowing faintly red. Then he walked across the room and gathered other pieces of dirty laundry there. He brought the gathered laundry to Al's pile. Al looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You're really a prince like me. If you have to clean, I guess I should have to clean too."

After all the laundry had been gathered, Ed started picking up his sorcery books. "Hey, Al. Can you read?"

Al looked at what the prince held in his hands. "The only book I ever saw in my life before today was at Dublith Royal. It was a history book that the workers there taught us all sorts of things out of it, like about good and evil, and the seven evil spirits, but they were the only ones in all Dublith who knew how to read."

Placing a book on the shelf, Ed said, "Maybe it's a good thing you came to this castle after all. You probably would have been safer in Dublith, but there are some things you really have to know as a prince that you couldn't learn there. I'll have Mustang teach you to read, and I'll give you access to my magic and sorcery books. If there's a way for us to keep up your combat training under Father's nose, I'll find that too. Even if we have to do it behind sealed doors every time."

Al bit his nails. "Brother, I'm a servant right now. If anyone finds out about any of this, I'll be killed, won't I?"

Ed scowled. He planted his feet firmly into the ground, and stood as tall as he could, being so short. "Al, if they come after you, I'll start the fighting, 'cause there's no way I'm letting my little brother be killed for acting within his birthright."

Al looked away. Was he really that uncomfortable with the thought of learning magic? Oh, right. Al knew he would have to watch Tucker burn the next day.

"How about I give you an extra gift while I'm at it, to help keep you safe? The extra one wouldn't be dangerous for you to have."

After a bout of silence, Al nodded.

"Great! I'll need you to kneel down, just so I can do this, you know?"

"Kneeling's only proper," Al said, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

Rolling his eyes, Ed put his hands on Al's head. "Alphonse Hohenheim, from now on out, you have access to my powers for your protection. I also give you some extra resolve to use at your discretion." Ed stopped. He knelt down and leaned into his brother's shoulder, getting some sweat on the back of Al's tunic. "Whew, that took more than usual."

Al slowly turned, working his arm under one of Ed's, letting him lean against the front side of his shoulder instead. "Brother, you look exhausted."

Ed waved it off. "Must have been giving you magic and an extra gift at the same time or something – it just took more than I expected to do the two together. I'll be fine after I get some rest."

* * *

Ed was back to full strength by the burning the next day, but Al, expectedly, wasn't doing so well after what he'd witnessed for the first time. Ed gestured for one of the kitchen staff to come to him and whispered, "I know Al's a servant, but I need you to warm some milk for him. Get him a slice of that cake from the other day if there's anything left of it too. He's too shaken up by Shou Tucker's burning to be of any use."

The kitchen boy blinked. "Your Highness?"

Ed just put a finger over his lips and winked. With a bow, the kitchen boy went off to fetch some water.

The prince had his brother sit down next to a wall, where Al pulled his knees up toward himself and wrapped his arms around his legs. Ed sat down next to him. "That won't happen to you, Al." Ed spoke slowly and quietly, his eyes darting around the room, looking into all the shadows.

Al was quiet, frowning into his legs.

"I'm on your side, and so is Mustang. He wouldn't burn you, and neither of us would let anyone else put you to death either."

The princes sat in silence until the kitchen boy brought Al a small dish with a slice of a slightly dried cake and a simple cup with the warm white liquid Ed had ordered inside. Ed let Al sip and nibble at his comfort food, keeping an eye on the kitchen's entrances.

He caught a glimpse of a thicker part of the shadows forming beneath the door.

Ed stood up and stretched. "Well, that's it. I thought I saw a rat or something in my chambers last night, and I want you to catch it. Come on."

Getting up, Al nodded and went to put his dishes by the sink. He followed his brother through the hallways, keeping his arms wrapped around himself.

Ed was keeping the thick shadows in his peripheral vision.

"Brother..."

The older prince stopped sharply and spun around. "Sh!" He put an arm on Al's shoulder and made a show of looking up and down the hallways, although he already knew they were being spied on.

"Al, I am glad you're here, but you've got to be careful where you say what," he whispered. "You never know if someone just around the corner will happen to hear us. I don't know why Dad had you banished, but I do know it's dangerous for you to be Prince Alphonse right now. When it's my time to inherit the throne, I'll make sure you get your rightful status back, but until then you have to be a servant."

Ed took his hand off his brother's shoulder, eyes moving subtly to catch a glimpse of a narrowed eye hiding in the shadows. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he said for its benefit. "Come on, we have a rat to catch."

He led the way to his chambers, sticking close to Al just in case. Ed breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the shadows retreating, but he didn't dare to say anything until they were inside his chamber and he'd magically sealed it. "What did you want to say to me?"

* * *

Al clutched at his clothing as his brother rushed them through the hallways in silence. His brother didn't speak to him until he'd pulled them into the princely chambers and had put the faintly red seal on the door. "What did you want to say to me?" he asked, turning around.

Al made himself release his grip on his clothes after running his thumb over the charm hidden beneath them one more time. No matter how dangerous it was, he wanted to be there for his family. "Brother, I'm not so sure I want to learn sorcery." Sorcery was too dangerous – he'd have to rely on his combat training if it came to fighting, but he could still help his brother without ending up like the servant he'd seen that morning.

Ed frowned and looked at the door. "They already want you dead. They heard us talking in the hallways – they know you're Prince Alphonse. If you get killed for learning sorcery, all it's going to be is an excuse."

Al's thoughts started to drift toward that morning, but they stopped when his brother shook him hard. "I'll protect you, alright?"

Al bit his lip and gave the older prince a shallow nod.

Ed kept his gaze on Al. "I'll protect you, but you've got to learn to defend yourself too, and sorcery is a fast way to become capable of defending yourself even a bit." He strode across the room and pulled a book off the shelf. "Come on, Al."

Al hung back. Looking at the floor, he asked, "I've ruined everything, haven't I? By calling you Brother back there."

Ed didn't answer. He turned the pages of the book until he seemed to find what he was looking for and stopped. "This one ought to be manageable." He crossed the floor, set the thick book down on the writing desk, and gestured for Al to join him.

Al plodded over to where Ed was looking at a set of pages with black and red words on the left and an illustration on the right, but he did have to remind his brother of something. "I can't read."

"I know, which is why I'm going to teach you myself. I just wanted the picture to help you out."

Al took a better look at the illustration. It showed a cloud near the ground with a swordsman stepping out of it, in front of a man whose hands were clapped together in front of him, as though in prayer.

His brother started to tell him more. "The spell allows someone with good intentions to call on helpers from another realm for immediate protection. It should allow you the chance to get away at least. The spell's easy enough to remember; the hardest part is that you need to see it very clearly in your mind and trusting that it will happen."

Al was still looking at the picture. "The being looks almost human."

"Yeah, they take many forms, but they often look human. If you close your eyes, can you see it coming to protect you?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Al shook his head. "I can imagine a cloud appearing, but I can't imagine a specific being coming to protect me."

Ed sat on the bed. "Al, who do you trust most in the world?"

Al closed his eyes again and faces floated through his mind: the dark eyes and stern face of his mother as she taught him how to dodge knives; the stoic face of his father as he silently watched him wrestle a pig for his father to slay; the sweaty, smirking face of Roy Mustang as he dismounted his steed near the Curtis' home.

"My family I guess."

"Can you see your family coming to protect you?"

Al nodded.

"Good. Pick one and envision a being like them stepping off a cloud, wielding a sword. Imagine you're in danger."

Al closed his eyes. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Brother. I just have don't have a good enough idea of what this is supposed to look like."

Ed got off the bed and came to stand beside his brother. "Alright, Al, but pay attention."

When Al turned his head, he caught a small smile on his brother's face as he inhaled deeply. Closing his eyes, Ed brought his hands together. "I look to you." Immediately, there was a cloud solidifying into what looked like King Van.

The being stayed for just a moment before dissipating back into the air. Ed frowned at the spot where it had disappeared for a moment before wiping the expression off his face and turning to his brother.

"Who did you think about?"

"Our father. Our real father." Ed carried a full smile on his lips. "Are you ready to try picturing it again?"

"Yeah." Al closed his eyes. This time, he saw himself in one of the dark corridors between his brother's chambers and the kitchens – one with a tapestry depicting a snake on some kind of staff – and was being approached by an angrier version of the one impersonating King Van.

Al forced his eyes away from the approaching violet-clad form and onto the snake on the tapestry. He clapped his hands together, and a cloud spewed forth from it, passing King Van and solidifying into the man he'd called father since childhood.

"Brother, I can see it." Al opened his eyes and saw Ed beaming at him.

"Great! Do it again. Only this time, clap and say _I look to you_."

Closing his eyes again, Al focused on Sig Curtis materializing from a cloud, a sword at the ready. He clapped and repeated the spell's words. When he opened his eyes, there was a cloud in front of him, parts of it condensing into foot-like shapes. And then it dissipated.

Ed only had one thing to say. "Again."

* * *

It was a long day of teaching Al magic. By bedtime, both boys were fatigued.

Ed could understand Al's being tired – his brother's body was not used to handling magic yet. He'd broken up Al's practice with mini-lessons on how magic works in general, especially with the workings relevant to Al's own safety. The rules of belief and the rules of souls and the like.

Ed flopped backward on his bed, lying sideways across it. He patted the free space next to him and Al joined him a moment later. "I must be having my first," Ed frowned, remembering his weak magic from the day before when he'd cast the spell on Al's eyes, "second, off day or something. Magic is not usually so draining for me."

"You weren't the one doing the most magic – only a few demonstrations."

He huffed. "I gave you access to my magic, didn't I? It wasn't possible for me to give you your own. Even if I'm only half-sorcerer and have limited access to the realm magic comes from, I usually have enough in reserve that it's not that big of a deal."

Ed could see Al push himself up out the corner of his eye. "Are you okay?" Al asked him.

"I'll be fine. It only takes a few hours to completely refill my reserves."

Al said nothing. He didn't relax either.

"It should be temporary, okay? Look, let's call it a night if you're that worried. We could both use some rest anyways."

Al got off the bed and offered Ed a hand up. Ed didn't take it. "I'm fine, okay? I'm sorry I worried you about nothing. Let's get you safely to bed."

The crown prince put a hand on his brother's back and steered him through the door, releasing the seal as he went through. He walked him all the way to the servants' chambers that night, watching the corridors with his eyes and his instincts, but they didn't run into anyone hostile. He tensed up when they finally reached that door – inside would be more dangerous for Al, not safer. Ed would feel better if he could stay with his brother himself.

"Al," he said, "I'm going to seal your chambers. Nothing should be able to get in without being too obvious that it's up to no good, but you're not going to be able to get out in the morning either, so just wait for me. Please stop the other servants from panicking."

Al shot him a look. "Your magic..."

Ed interrupted him. "It's fine. I'm just a bit tired, and your safety is more important anyway."

With much worrying from Al, Ed managed to shoo his brother into the servants' quarters and place a seal on the door. Ed frowned once the seal was on the door. What was Al doing worrying about his magic when he should be worrying about his own safety anyway? Father and his helpers weren't likely to forget the way Al had called him Brother in the hallways.

A knot in his chest, the young prince made his way toward Mustang's chambers and knocked on his door. The knight answered a few moments later, hair full of static, wearing his night clothes.

"Ed?" Mustang yawned, covering his mouth. "What is it?"

"Al's cover is blown."

The knight stood there and blinked, as though trying to comprehend with a sleepy mind what Ed had said. "What? How?"

"He called me Brother in the halls. Pride's shadows were there."

Mustang frowned. "Where's your brother now?"

"In the servants' chambers with a seal on the door. I taught him how to summon a minute of help, but Father's still going to try to have him killed some way or other." The prince met Mustang's dark eyes. "I'd like to talk to Dad about what to do – the war has definitely become more important."

The knight nodded, placing a hand on his chin. "I can arrange it. But what to do about the dungeon guards this time..." His eyes lit up, a smirk spreading over his face. "Go watch over your brother for a few more hours. I know of a woman near the castle who doesn't mind being woken for business if the price is right. She sells a drink that will take care of the guards."

Ed's posture relaxed. "Madam Christmas?"

Mustang didn't need to answer verbally to confirm it. "I'll come to you when it's ready." He closed his chamber door, and the prince backtracked to the servants' hallway.

Ed knew something was wrong before he even arrived. He could hear faint slithering sounds, as though something was trying to squeeze under the door. Mentally running through his repertoire of offensive spells, the prince picked up his pace. When he rounded the corner, he saw a snake trying to force its way through his weakening red barrier. Envy.

Clapping his hands briefly together, Ed slammed them down on the castle's cold stone floor and commanded it to drive the snake away with a mild quake. But the snake wasn't deterred for long.

As the snake tried to strike the door, Ed kicked at it. "Al," he called. "There's a magic snake loose out here, trying to get under the door. Get everyone on the lookout."


	5. Chapter IV

**What a week! Seven nights straight on an air mattress, sharing a room with four of my siblings as we went to say goodbye to Grandpa until we meet again. Missing Grandpa, but picturing him having lots of fun meeting all the people he researched in the career as a professional genealogist that he loved so much. Helping Grandma around the house as she worked with our difficult family, the funeral director, and our church to plan Grandpa's funeral. Helping scan almost five hundred lost family photos that turned up after Grandpa's death. Fasting and praying that the extended family would be nice to each other at the services (God granted us that miracle).**

 **Anyways, I'm grateful to be home and grateful to have writing as a means of keeping myself sane.**

* * *

Chapter IV

Al woke to his brother's calls. The servants' quarters were still only very faintly lit by the night's natural light coming in from outside, so what could be happening at this time of night? Al thought he heard something about a snake.

Forgetting about the seal his brother had put on the door, Al went to go help with the creature. It didn't take a prince or a knight to deal with a wild animal. The moment Al put his hand on the door, there was a flicker of red, which disappeared as Al pushed the door open. "Where's the snake?"

The snake, strangely quick for the cold weather, stuck out at Al's left leg. It would have gotten Al too if Ed hadn't kicked at just the right moment.

The snake was knocked aside, hitting the cold floor with a soft thud.

Ed looked at his brother, mouth starting to open as though he wanted to say something, but he shut it and turned his attention back to the snake instead. "Al, get me a pillowcase or something – I'm gonna catch it."

Al ran into the servants' chambers and snagged the rough, grayish pillowcase off of his flat pillow. Glancing around, he found a stray stick that he though the cook's boys might have brought in as a make-believe sword at some point and grabbed it too.

He went and handed the pillowcase to his brother, pointing the knobby stick toward the snake himself.

The young men cautiously approached the snake, dodging its strikes. Al poked at it and used the stick to block attacks – all aimed toward him – many times.

They continued the dangerous game until Al managed to pin the snake down with the stick just long enough for his brother to catch it in his pillowcase. Ed tied pillowcase up and threw it out a window, where there was a decent fall down to the castle's snowy grounds.

The younger prince noticed his brother looking around the shadowy hallways again before Ed even spoke to him.

"You okay?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

Ed threw a sour face at the servants' chamber door. "My barrier managed to keep Father's shape-shifting helper out, but it was weaker than normal, just like my magic this afternoon. And the barrier disappeared entirely when you touched the door Al. I really wanna know why."

Al hung his head. "I forgot about the barrier, but I guess I shouldn't have touched it and made it weaker since you've been having trouble with your magic lately. I messed up again, didn't I?"

"It shouldn't have disappeared just by being touched." Ed went and put his hand to the plain wooden door. Lingering for a moment, he shook his head. "My spells don't just weaken on their own, and I know you didn't do anything on purpose. I don't understand what happened. I can't pretend that a spell actually giving out is just me being tired."

He pulled the door shut, not saying anything to Al to tell him to get back inside. Al watched his older brother, picturing all the things that could happen to the two of them if there really was something stronger than his brother interfering with his brother's magic.

Both boys tensed as they heard crisp footsteps coming down the hallway, but it was just Mustang. "Ed," he greeted. "Alphonse?"

Ed turned to Al with a smile. "We're going to see the real King Van. Since you're already up, wanna come?"

Al quietly nodded and followed Mustang and Ed through the castle. The unfamiliar halls seemed smaller at night, their contours different than the day his brother had shown him around, but the two he was with knew the castle well enough to find their way. It just reminded Al of all the things he didn't know, even if he'd been born a prince.

It was a small journey to go visit their father once they'd left the servants' chambers. Moonlight sent silhouettes of bare tree branches into the hallways, shapes twisting around as if to ensnare one of Al's party.

Even once they'd passed the sleeping guards with the strong smell of flowery herbs on their breath, it seemed miles through the cold, freezing dungeons. The place smelled of damp earth, perhaps like the inside of a grave.

It didn't help Al's nerves any that the only light he saw was the flickering light of the small ball of flames that Mustang was maintaining with his right hand. He imagined the dungeons actually would be pitch-black without it.

Rubbing the spot of his clothing that his charm lay under, Al glanced at his brother. He was there with him, and soon he'd have his father's company too. Relaxing a bit, Al allowed himself a smile.

* * *

Ed walked beside Mustang as they covered the last length of hallway before reaching his dad's cell at the far reaches of the underground network of dungeons. He was familiar enough with the awful sight of how skinny his father was, but he thought he heard Al break the silence by letting out a gasp behind him.

Ed knelt down, close enough to the bars that his hands could just reach through and touch the icy hand of his sleeping father. "Dad."

Hohenheim opened pale eyes that Ed knew would have matched Al's and his own had they been healthy. "Edward? You didn't visit me that long ago."

"I know." Ed nodded behind him to where Al stood. "Things happened faster than expected."

Hohenheim's gaze turned to Al and lingered there for a moment, blinking. "Alphonse?"

Al mumbled out some formal pleasantries, almost as though he were a shy peasant meeting his king. Ed glanced back and saw him shuffling his feet on the grimy floor. His lips turned downward. He'd thought Al had started to get used to royalty over the past few days!

Hohenheim was also frowning and Ed sensed he owed his father an explanation. "I lost my personal servant shortly after I sent Mustang out to teach Al who he really is, and Al came to fill the opening. He said he wanted to be here with us, and I couldn't say no to him, even though I knew he'd be safer in Dublith." He paused, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. "The enemy already know who he is, and my magic's not protecting him as well as it should..."

Hohenheim waited for his oldest son to finish explaining the situation before he said anything. "I hate to say it, but the problem probably lies with Al."

The damp dungeon air suddenly seemed a bit colder than it already was. Al? It couldn't be, right?

Unfortunately, it made sense.

Ed and Mustang both looked at Al, who glanced at them both, as well as at Hohenheim, and nearly stumbled half a step back.

Hohenheim spoke from inside his cell. "Alphonse, do you know of any reason why magic would be weaker around you?"

Al stuttered out a weak no.

"Did you perhaps bring anything magical with you that could be interfering with other spells?"

Al brought a hand toward his chest and slowly curled his fingers around something under his clothing. "I do have something, but it shouldn't be causing problems, should it? I haven't even used it."

Ed's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"It's one of your charms, Brother. Mister Cornello sold it to me, saying you'd put a spell on it to make a wish come true. I bought it because I really wanted to know who my birth family was. I'd meant to ask Sir Mustang to write my wish on it for me, but I never got a good chance."

"A charm to grant wishes?" Ed asked. "Al, I don't make charms to grant unknown wishes – I want to know how my magic's being used."

Something pricked at Ed's heart, the prince suspecting what his younger brother's wish had been, but he couldn't allow Al to keep the charm. Ed held out a hand, scowling at an imaginary Mister Cornello – probably some fat guy in a silky cloak, using his charisma on unsuspecting villagers. "Give me that charm."

Al reached a trembling hand under his shirt and pulled out a simple money bag. He handed the whole thing to Ed.

Ed opened the drawstring and removed the wooden charm. His eyes grew wide and he turned to look at his father. "I feel weak."

He did. He felt as though he'd been covered in leeches, all wedging themselves between Ed and his inner gate to the magic realm and sucking away at the reservoir of magic he had as a half-sorcerer.

"Edward, give it to Sir Mustang."

The small chip of carved wood slipped through Ed's fingers and dropped to the floor with a light clink.

Mustang bent over to pick it up, despite Ed's protests. Didn't Mustang know it would weaken his and his supplier's magic off as well?

The knight waved Ed's worry aside with a hand. "I'm fine, Ed. It's not doing anything to me."

Hohenheim's weak voice carried from behind Ed. "The charm can only affect one source of magic at a time." On hearing his father's voice, Ed spun toward the cage and saw words continue to pour past Hohenheim's chapped lips. "The charm will weaken spells that call on your magic, but as I am the one who's given Sir Mustang access to his magic, it won't affect him."

Ed saw motion out of the corner of his eye. Al was trembling, crying into his sleeve. He took a step toward his younger brother. "Al?"

"Why?"

Ed crossed his arms. "Al, I don't understand. Why what? What are you crying about?"

"All I wanted to do was meet my family, and that charm was supposed to be from you."

Ed understood. "It's not like you knew. There was nothing wrong with wanting to meet us, but someone used that against you. You were tricked, plain and simple."

Mustang coughed into the hand he wasn't suspending a fireball with, now holding the wooden charm. "We're all worried about young Prince Alphonse's safety here. I believe we came to discuss what to do about it?"

"If Father didn't already know about him, we could try sending him back into hiding, but I do not believe the same trick would work twice, not if we hid him anywhere in this realm." Hohenheim looked at his youngest son, a subdued tone to his voice. "However, if we sent him to the other realm, he would never be able to come back, and how could I deny him forever the one thing I came here to gain? Family."

Ed gave a small nod – no human being could go through the Gate more than once, and no one could physically start a family in the magic realm. Al would be alone in a place where he'd never taste death.

Al took a step closer to him, his eyes pointed toward where Mustang was starting to burn the draining charm.

"Speaking of going to another realm, I never understood why Father came here. What could our realm offer a sorcerer but a chance at a family?"

"He didn't come to this realm," Hohenheim said. "Both his parents came here from the magic realm, and he was born here in a neighboring country. He's never been interested in the magic realm – why would he when he is comparatively much more powerful here?"

Ed scowled at a clump of mud on the floor. He'd heard before that Father allowed his dad to live in order to impersonate him, but he'd never understood why Father wanted to come to this realm and take over Amestris in the first place. Father being from this realm made a little more sense, but why had he invaded Amestris?

He almost missed his brother's quiet complaint. "I don't understand what's going on."

Ed looked up. "How so?"

"Other realms. Reign of Amestris."

"I don't know why Father wants to rule Amestris either, but I can tell you about realms. You see, magic comes from another realm, another earth, much like this one, and its power can only be accessed here through people who have come from there – sorcerers like Dad. It's in their blood."

Al glanced at the unwashed king chained to an equally unclean floor. "I thought you and Dad were born in Amestris?"

"I was – same as you – but I lucked out on inheriting magic from Dad. Dad, when people say he's an Amestrian born with magic, they don't mean he was born here. He was made an Amestrian because he defended this country for so long – the last king named him his successor when he was unable to have children of his own."

Al nodded.

Ed looked at their father. "I don't get it – why Amestris. This place must have been harder for Father to take over with another sorcerer on the throne."

Hohenheim seemed to slump in his shackles. "Revenge. While he was gaining political power through his rising military ranks in his own country, I stopped his advance when I led our troops to turn his army back. He swore he'd come and kill our family, taking all our knowledge of sorcery for himself. I bet he's busy working to diminish our power in this realm to the point where even the magic in this family won't save us – like with the wishing charm."

Ed's voice dropped to a whisper. "Magic is fueled by belief. Father thought Al was dead until today, so there's no way he could have known the charm would end up in our household. He must be trying to undermine the people's belief."

He spotted Al moving back and forth on his feet out of his peripheral vision, so he smiled at his brother. "Thanks, Al. If you hadn't brought that charm here, we might not have known about it."

Ed kept smiling at his younger brother as Al looked up from the floor.

Al slowly smiled back. He wasn't smiling a very big smile, but he was smiling.

Ed looked at his dad. "With that charm gone, I think my magic might be able to protect Al a bit longer. Maybe even long enough to teach him how to protect himself from Father and those creatures he summoned through the Gate."

"Brother, if there's something Father can do to weaken your magic, then there might be something that can be done to strengthen it, right?"

Al was right.

"Strengthen our magic?" Ed became more animated. "Mustang, I need you to organize a campaign to keep people believing in the Hohenheim magic."

The knight smirked. "Of course."

Smirking back, Ed spun around and grabbed Al around the shoulders. "As for you, come with me. I've got just enough magic left right now to make you something."

* * *

Ed called a goodbye to his father as he ran out of the dungeons with Al, Al barely having the breath to do the same. Ed released him when they got to the main halls and led him up to the princely chambers, where the older prince pulled a silky, white blanket off his bed. Moments later, Al was presented with a scrap of white cloth, written on with something dark. "Here. Keep it where you kept Father's charm."

Al complied, drawing his purse closed when the charm was safely inside. "What is it?"

"It's a protective charm. It should lessen the effects of physical attacks against you. It will work to the degree you can bring yourself to trust me and my magic."

Al closed his eyes and sent himself back to the mental exercise his brother had used in teaching him how to summon a helper to protect him. He could still see the Curtises and Mustang in the role of his savior, but he guessed he just didn't know his brother well enough to see him there yet.

Who did he trust most in the world? He trusted the family that had raised him, but he hoped he trusted his brother to love a lowly commoner like him enough to protect him too.

Al held his woolen moneybag in one hand and felt magic coming off the charm it contained. It felt loving, trustworthy, and warm, much like he'd felt when his brother had given him access to his magic. Smiling, he tucked it underneath his clothes. "Brother, thanks."

* * *

If Father tried to attack Al again that night, Mustang's protective barrier did its job in keeping him and his helpers out. Al had an hour or two of precious sleep after the previous night's excitement before he had to be up and attending to his duties.

He was jumpy all through the morning. He was jumpy as other servants tried to talk to him about the snake they'd heard about. He was jumpy as he ate some warm bread for breakfast. He was jumpy as he walked through the drafty corridors and up the winding stairwells to report to his brother's chambers.

On the way there, Al automatically took up the defensive stance his parents had taught him as he bumped into someone, but it was just a little boy. He relaxed, laughing a bit. "I'm sorry about that."

The boy looked up at him with a large smile stretched up toward his dark eyes. "Prince Edward really did get a new servant. You're him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Al Curtis."

"I'm Selim. I'm the son of one of King Van's advisers."

Al looked at the dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy in front of him. Did the inhuman things his brother told him about have families too? Realizing he was gawking, Al mumbled out, "Are you really?"

"You really are new, aren't you? A lot of new servants have a hard time meeting the highest castes for the first time."

Al nodded almost absently to Selim's question as his mind returned to the single-roomed stick and mud house, large for a commoner's living space, where Mustang had told him that he was a prince of Amestris. He hadn't entirely believed it then, and he had certainly felt nervous when he came to get a servant's job from his brother, even having been told that he himself is a prince.

Yet, he had seen his brother's golden eyes – same as his – for himself. He'd seen his brother goofing off, and he'd even seen his brother helping with chores. If Al hadn't known better, he wouldn't have known there was a real difference between Ed and any of the village boys in Dublith. But he knew his brother was the crown prince and a sorcerer, not a regular person.

"I bet you'll soon be wondering what the difference is between the castes really," Selim said. "I mean, someone like you could easily have been born with the crown prince's responsibility, and soon you'll see that even those of us in the highest castes can mess up. Just recently, one of Prince Edward's charms failed to protect a little servant girl that he thought was cute, letting her dad partially transform her into a talking animal."

Al unconsciously reached for the charm around his neck, noting that the weight of the wooden trinket was off compared to what it had been the night before. Would that mean there was a chance his charm to reunite his family wouldn't have worked, even if he had used it?

As Al's hand reached the bag at his neck, he felt that its contents were more flexible than wood and remembered that the charm in there had been changed. But still, if this kid were telling the truth, it had been one of his brother's protective charms that had failed. Not a comforting thought.

Selim's eyes went wide. "I've got to go! I promised my dad I'd help him with something." Selim darted down the stairwell, and Al continued on his way.

He was distracted as he helped his brother put on mail and armor.

"Al? Al? Alphonse."

Al finally noticed the intense look Ed was giving him. Ed's golden eyes drilled into his own eyes that had been disguised as brown. Al blinked and looked away with an awkward smile. "I'm sorry about that – I guess I'm a little distracted today. What is it?"

"I was trying to tell you that Mustang's going to give you a reading lesson while I'm out training today. I still haven't found a way to let you keep up on your own physical training, so I'm hoping you could get closer to being able to read our sorcery books instead."

Ed's eyes ran across his brother's face, his lips turning down into a frown. "What's bothering you?"

Al shifted.

"Is this about last night?"

"No."

Ed put his hands on his brother's face and turned it toward him. "You can tell me anything."

"I was thinking about a little girl named Nina Tucker."

Ed released his brother's face and mirrored his expression. The remainder of their time together that morning passed with very few words exchanged between them.


	6. Chapter V

**Thanks everyone for your support for this story in the form of reviews, favorites, alerts, and views. It's actually getting close to the end already. I hope you enjoy how things play out.**

* * *

Chapter V

Ed studied his magic books while his younger brother was getting his breakfast. He wished that Al could have enjoyed the same privileges he did, but how could they let that happen without endangering Al?

But since Ed's brother was in danger, he might as well review everything he could that was related to the draining charms Al had been crucial in discovering. He knew he had to hurry up and win the war with all that was at stake now. Teasing out the details of Father's plan would be more possible with the clue Al had given them, and that would be crucial to winning.

In a tome whose thick cover was inlaid with gold, Ed found a better description of Father's draining charm: it short-circuited the belief being given off by the soul by amplifying even the slightest bit of doubt coming from the mind.

"Of course – since Father isn't powerful enough capture someone's soul instead of just their belief in his own magic, using their doubts against me is the next best thing." Ed frowned. Father hadn't been powerful enough in the past to skip past the belief that fuels magic and go straight to the source of the belief in the past, but he'd been doing what he could over the years to gain that power. He had to be getting close to powerful enough to capture souls...

A knock came on Ed's chamber doors. "Prince Edward? Are you awake? I've brought your breakfast."

It was Al, playing the part of the servant again.

Ed slipped a ribbon in his book and placed it on the bookshelf. He crossed the floorboards and opened the door for his younger brother.

He rushed Al into his chambers and closed the door.

"Brother?"

"Have you eaten? Hurry up and eat." Ed forgot his table manners as he scarfed down his toast and jam, washing it down with the goblet Al had brought with the meal. He didn't even bother to wash up with water and rag on his tray.

Al watched with his lips parted for a moment as though still surprised to see his brother acting outside his image of how a prince should act.

"Did you eat? Make sure you've eaten a light breakfast. We're going to spar in here before I go off to training and Mustang comes for your reading lesson."

"Yeah, I ate."

"Good." Ed gave his brother no further warning before he lunged at him.

If Al was caught off-guard, he was good at compensating for it. Al stepped to the side and got Ed with a blow of his own.

The two of them went at it for a few minutes before Ed ended up on the ground, Al pinning him to the floor with one hand and holding an imaginary blade to his throat with the other. "If this were real combat, this is when I'd incapacitate you."

The older prince grinned. "You're good. I shouldn't worry about you against any normal opponent."

Both boys quickly wiped themselves off with the cold water from Ed's breakfast tray before Al started helping his brother with his armor. When Ed left for training, he was much more able to focus on the battles that were bound to come up soon, mind as clear as the crisp blue winter sky and giving him as much hope as the warming air signifying the coming spring.

* * *

The new routine continued for a couple of weeks and Al never told his brother about the brief talks he and Selim Bradley would sometimes have. More than ever, Al was glad he'd come – if he could beat his brother at sparring every morning, then perhaps there was something useful he could do at Central Castle after all.

Al could be the warrior for the both of them, and Ed could be the sorcerer. Well, provided they could fix the problem of Ed's subjects' belief supporting his magic less and less. Even Al doubted that his brother's magic was actually strong enough to protect either of them at the present.

One morning toward the beginning of spring, Al was taking his brother's laundry to be washed. The skies were dark and overcast, and the young prince could smell the rain that was putting some chill back into the air. He shivered a bit from the air drifting inside.

With the skies a dark gray, it was darker than usual at this time in the morning, and Al could have sworn he'd just seen a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He adjusted his grip on the laundry basket in his arms, ready to throw it if he needed to, and moved his eyes left to get a better look at whatever he'd seen.

There were shadows on the wall. Al would have liked them to be just normal shadows, but there were thicker strands of them, as though they were somehow solid. In one of the strands, a red eye opened up; in the strand below it, a sharp white grin was flashed by a mouth.

Al threw the basket at the shadows and ran down the hallway, but the shadows just zoomed ahead of him, surrounding him. He was totally unarmed. Al could either use his feet and fists to try to fend off something he may not be able to physically affect anyways, or he could try to use sorcery.

What was that spell his brother had taught him? He'd been practicing, but the spell slipped his mind now that he needed it.

Al dodged an incoming tendril of shadow, rolling to the side as it made contact with the floor behind where he stood and pulled up a chunk of the floor as though it were a dog tearing through a chunk of meat. He ducked another incoming assault.

He really wished he had a torch or something about now. Maybe the light could get rid of the living shadows.

Al clapped his hands together and tried to visualize an angelic Sig Curtis coming to protect him. A wisp of cloud appeared, but that was about it.

"Foolish mortal," said a high male voice. "Who do you think can protect you here?"

"My brother taught me the spell. He wanted me to be safe." Al's hands now drew to the pouch in which he'd always kept his charms. He felt the softness of the fabric charm inside his pouch. He knew it was from his brother, but it felt like rather flimsy protection to him. His brother's protection couldn't even save that little girl.

More tendrils shot out at Al. He managed to dodge the first one as easily as one of his mother's flying knives, but the rest, coming at him simultaneously from different directions, made it impossible for him to dodge everything. Shadows wrapped around each of his limbs, ensnaring him in a web of shadows.

Then a boy with the shadows coming from his form stepped out into the open. It was Selim. "Your brother can't protect you. He's too weak." He smirked evilly. "We've got plans for you."

* * *

That same morning, Ed was training outside with half a dozen of his knights, each coated in mud from the lower calf down. The barometric pressure was building and the fighters were already covered in sweat, but as long as the weather was safe enough, they'd continue to train.

The fighters were doing drills that day, spot checking various thrusts and lunges with their swords.

Ed felt a hand tapping his shoulder and spun around, pointing his weapon at Mustang's chest.

"You," said Ed, relaxing a bit, "you should know better than to startle me."

Mustang was breathing heavily. "It's urgent – the kingdom's in danger and your brother's gone."

"What?" He grabbed Mustang's arm. "Tell me what's going on."

"I caught Father's advisers going to his summons, so I decided to listen in."

Ed listened carefully as Mustang told him what he'd learned. Al had been captured – Mustang didn't have the details, but Father was confidently telling the otherworldly beings that he had a soul in the Gate between realms, that he was about to surpass the Hohenheims in magic.

Ed stopped listening to Mustang as he said that he'd seen Father start to impersonate Ed without first capturing the crown prince, too focused on what the knight had already said. "He's got Al?"

"Edward, I'm sorry."

Ed loudly compared Father to something particularly unpleasant. "Start the offensive. I'm going after my brother."

He ran off before Mustang could stop him. He heard the knight's footsteps chasing after him, as well as the knight's warning: "No one ever comes back from being trapped in the Gate itself – your brother's entirely in Father's power. There's nothing you can do!"

Ed heard the knight's unspoken concern just as loud and clear – if he went to the Gate, the knight didn't think he could come back either. The young prince ignored Mustang, running through the damp stone hallways and up the winding staircases until he'd reached his chambers.

He promptly sealed the door with something strong and ran over to his books. This, he was sure, would be the biggest bit of sorcery he would ever have to do, and he could not afford to have anyone with him to interrupt him.

"Dad, I'm sorry. Wish me luck."

Closing his eyes, Ed focused deep within himself and found the Gate. He slowly pulled the Gate open, and it hurt. A lot. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his concentration as tears formed from the pain. "I have come... to sacrifice myself..."

He faded from the world around him and entered a new place of spotless white, where there was only a Gate.

"I've come to trade myself for my brother. You'd rather have a true sorcerer like me than one like Al, wouldn't you?"

There was no response from the Gate, so Ed tried the handle. It opened, but Ed had to brace himself against the white expanse pretending to be a floor to keep it open. Inside the Gate, was a truly repulsive black mass, but Ed could just make out his brother's shape encompassed in it. "Alphonse!"

Al's shape turned its head toward him. "Brother?"

Ed reached his hand toward his younger brother. "Al, I can get you out of here, but you've got to trust me. Do you trust me?"

"I've been trying to, but I don't know if I can. That monster kid's been saying things..."

"I know, Al, I know. You've only got to trust me enough to take my hand." Ed reached his hand out as far as he could while Al fought against the black gunk that held him in. Inches at a time, Al reached out and took Ed's hand. The two of them switched places.

The tar-like stuff was much worse than touching Al's draining charm. Ed wouldn't have even known if anything had happened to his supply of magic due to the searing pain that stabbed into his soul itself. Every painful memory of life came to the surface of his mind – learning the fate of his family as a child, seeing tears leave Winry's blue eyes and stream down her face, hearing Al's tone as he begged to stay at the castle...

But all Ed's recent worries about his brother were there as well. That was right – he'd come to offer himself for Al. He was possibly the first person to put himself in the Gate, but because he'd put himself there, and not Father, Ed was the one with the power.

"Brother, now you're stuck in there."Ed didn't see how the Gate was being kept open enough for his brother to talk to him, but he didn't think he'd heard it shut either.

Ed fought against the burning tar-like stuff that now covered his whole body to raise his shoulders. "I knew this would happen – I took it upon myself willingly. You've got to go back, Al. It's up to you to save Amestris."

"How?"

Ed twisted his neck the direction his brother's voice was coming from. "Use your fighting skills. Use the gifts I gave you – magic and resolve. Tell Mustang to seal Father and the others in here."

Ed could practically hear the tears in Al's voice. "But what about you?"

"I've got an idea of how to get out of here, but it had to be me. Go help Mustang."

Al sniffed. "I'll see you again, won't I?"

"Yes, Al. I guarantee it."

Ed heard the Gate close firmly shut. He did have a plan, really.

* * *

Al ran to find Mustang, but he didn't have to search far. All he had to do was unseal and open the door of his brother's chambers.

"Alphonse!"

For the first time in his life, Al saw Mustang off-guard. The knight's eyes were widened and his mouth open just long enough to be noticed.

"Sir Mustang?"

The knight regained most of his composure, still looking Alphonse over as though he were unsure it was really the youngest prince. "Where's your brother?"

"The Gate has him."

Mustang nodded. "That makes sense." He took his eyes off Al and gazed toward the rough stone wall instead, gaining a calculating expression.

Al didn't bother trying to conceal the liquid pooling in his eyes as he looked up at the dark-eyed knight. "He said to seal Father and the others inside the Gate, but he said he'd get out somehow, but he didn't say anything about how."

"Do you trust your brother?"

Al reached around his neck and pulled his pouch out from around his neck. "Yes. He rescued me. He tried to keep me safe – he gave me a protective charm. But I don't see how he can get himself out of the Gate if his protective charms don't even work."

Mustang held out a gloved hand. "May I?"

Al handed Mustang his pouch. Mustang opened it up and pulled out the piece of Ed's silky blanket on which something was written in a dark red ink. He turned the writing around to face Al. "I think you're far enough along that you can try to read."

"Protekte ackording to belieff," Al sounded out. "Protect according to belief?"

"It's like we talked about while we were visiting your dad – magic is fueled by belief. Father's been attacking people's belief in your brother's magic. I wouldn't be surprised if that included yours."

Al's eyes widened. "That monster kid – that's why he kept talking to me before he came to capture me."

Mustang put the charm back in Al's purse and put the purse back around Al's neck. "It should still work if you believe your brother will protect you. And he always will – just like he's done before. But now, you and I have some work to do. Your brother gave the order to start the fighting, but we must first rally our troops. The whole populace must choose a side, and I need you to spread the word of what your brother's done for you. Tell them that he's the first person to ever succeed in rescuing someone from the Gate - and he is - and that he has the power to break free himself. Tell them he'll save them."

Al looked at Mustang. "No one's ever rescued someone from the Gate before?"

"Your brother's brilliant and has enough belief in himself to retain some magic without others' help. If anyone was going to be capable of a rescue, it would be him. But now that we know he is, do you still think we'll lose?"

"But he's gone."

Mustang smirked. "Is he? You've still got access to his powers, right?"

Al looked at the door. "It was easier to unseal than before."

"That stupid kid put himself right in the best position to help us with his magic. We'll just have to trust him to be able to get himself back when this is all over."

"He said to seal Father and his advisers in the Gate. He said it's up to us to save Amestris." Al clenched his trembling fists. Was his brother this afraid when he was the one burdened with taking the counntry back? When he was handing himself over to the Gate?

Yes, he had to be. If his older brother was brave, then Al would be brave too. He reached inside himself and reached for the special gift his brother had given him. It was time to claim his extra resolve – no more relying mostly on mere physical reminders of why he was there, like the wooden charm that had ended up sapping away at his brother's magic.

"Get me a horse. I need to gather the people to our side immediately."


	7. Chapter VI

**Thanks for all the support for this story. Things are really building up now, and I hope it's an enjoyable ride. Please remember to review.**

* * *

Chapter VI

Ed turned inside the Gate. His teeth were clenched shut, and he was almost covered in more sweat than he was in the Gates' tar-like insides. Even more than when he'd first got in, he felt as though his whole soul were drowning in flames.

The young prodigy wished he could stop, but calling off the deal he'd made with the Gate now would doom everyone involved - it was not just him involved with the Gate either. It wasn't just him and Al involved in the deal, though Ed would still keep his end of the bargain if it was only for Al.

Ed knew the laws of magic, the laws of soul. He knew how the Gate worked. He knew that souls could never be retrieved from being trapped inside the Gate, or at least no one had ever successfully retrieved one before he'd switched places with Al. But getting out himself? That was going to be a different ordeal.

No one had ever escaped from the Gate either. It would have to be a trade, but it would need different conditions as Ed knew that Father would not come willingly, as he had.

And there was still the matter of Father having free rein of Amestris and now using Ed's face - he'd trapped Al at the Gate for power. Who could say he didn't intend to trap anyone else here?

 _"I'll pay for them," Ed said through a mouthful of sludge, "for every single one of them. Father can't trap them here if they've already been claimed by me."_

And so, Ed was paying the price for magic to recognize every resident of Amestris as one of his citizens, using the energy of his own soul, currently trapped at the Gate in Al's place.

Ed squirmed. There was so much darkness in the black substance of the Gate, and he didn't just mean the lack of physical light either – hope was a concept foreign to the place. There had never been hope of rescue or escape before that day, and although he carried the hope within him, residual hopelessness and despair coated him just as the Gate's liquid insides and threatened to sink in through his pores. But those conditions were just life at the Gate – they weren't the price Ed was paying to claim his kingdom as his own.

 _When Ed had promised to pay for all Amestrian souls, he somehow knew what to do - though he was trapped inside the Gate, his magic was still flowing through him. If he could focus on feeling his magic, he could see either side of the Gate._

 _On the side of the Gate where the magic realm was, there were hundreds of thousands of humans and creatures. The common mode of dress seemed to be a white robe, and there was power, pure power, radiating off of each of them as though Ed were standing next to a sun going nova, and all of that energy was pouring through the Gate as though it were some sort of window._

 _But in the human world, there were only a few strands of power running around, following the men and women they were attached to. Some of the strands were attached directly to Ed - those of the ones he'd given magic to: Al, Armstrong, and others._

 _In order to get the souls of Amestris recognized as his, Ed had to experience everything the souls had - to imprint their souls on his own._

The prince died inside, yet again, and he wasn't surprised - there was a war going on outside, after all, even if not everyone recognized it yet. It felt as though an arrow had been shot through his heart, and tears sprang to his eyes, whether more from the physical pain or from the knowledge that a Maes Hughes had just died for him, he didn't know.

Hughes had been a good man who loved his wife and child. The near-sighted green-eyed man had participated in the meetings at his local community center that was meant to connect the public with the royal family and their magic, only wishing blessings for his family.

Ed knew that Hughes had been a foot-soldier when he was younger. In fact, he'd been a foot-soldier under his father's command just as Mustang had been, helping to fight Father the first time around. Hughes had seen blood cover the tundra of Amestris and Drachma alike and had worried about his sweetheart back home the whole time, choosing at the end of the war to return home rather than to become a knight. Hughes had known the type of person that Van Hohenheim was and hadn't believed the lies that Father was spreading about him using Ed's face.

Standing up to the impostor, Hughes was struck down with an arrow. If the tears from having to live Hughes' death could have rolled down Ed's face through the tar entrapping him, they would have. But instead, they gathered with all the other tears for Amestris.

Then Ed's magic grasped on to another soul's sufferings - his younger brother's. The prince knew of the longing Al had for his family and the confusion and doubt he'd faced once he'd learned the truth, but now it was real. "Al, when this is all over, I swear you will be fully restored to your rightful home."

* * *

Al followed Mustang down through the nippy castle and out onto the grounds. He knew what his brother wanted of him and Mustang, but Al also knew that he had very little he could draw from in commanding all Amestris to reach that end. "I'll go spread the word," Al said to Mustang, "but could you take command in getting Father and his advisers thrown inside the Gate?"

The knight agreed and started planning out how to distribute knights throughout the land to first rally the people to their cause. He wouldn't let Al go out alone, nor would he let anyone else leave on their own. "I'll take Basque Grand with me to hunt down the impostors, but the rest of you should go throughout the kingdom in pairs to inform the people of the battle."

The knight himself also prepared Ed's horse, a white steed, and sword for Al to use. He steered Al over to Armstrong to pair them up together. "Sir Armstrong," Mustang said, "this is Alphonse Hohenheim, the younger prince who was sent into hiding."

Armstrong's eyes went wide. "Your highness. I'm sorry I treated you like a-"

Mustang held up a hand. "He doesn't blame you for anything. We don't have time for this."

"Sir Armstrong," Al said. "We need to go."

Mustang helped Al onto Ed's steed. He turned to Armstrong. "No one's to know who he is yet because he'll be a target for sure if Father finds him. I'm trusting you to take care of him."

"Understood," said the muscular knight.

Mustang sent the two of them on their way, out to a town called Risembool. Al was clumsy in riding the horse there, barely able to direct the horse where he wanted it to go, but Armstrong assured him he was doing well for his first time riding a horse.

Risembool was a richer town than Al was used to. There were still stick-and-mud houses for the commoners, but there were more shops downtown than he was used to, and more horses too.

Al glanced at his escort. "What is this place?"

"Risembool is a town known for its smiths. Its craftsmen are sometimes summoned to Central Castle to do work for the knights and the royals."

Armstrong rode through the streets, calling Risembool's citizens to the town square in the name of the prince. They all gathered in a cobblestone courtyard covered in the last of the winter snow that was melting away into giant puddles.

Armstrong asked for a crate for Al and himself to stand on to deliver news to the people, and one was brought. Peasants crowded around, and the nobles had padded seats carried to a section off to the side of the representatives from the castle.

The knight got up and introduced Al as Prince Edward's personal servant. "He is a first-hand witness of the treachery going on in this country."

Al got up on the crate after Armstrong, heart pounding and hands shaking as he looked out over the crowd gathered in the center of Risembool. He saw people with hands and faces still wet from being cleaned to greet the representatives. Al saw men, women, and children all with their eyes focused on him.

The young prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd made up his mind that he'd do anything he could for his family, and this was something he had to do with his father in the dungeons and his brother in the Gate. As Al opened his eyes, he closed his trembling hands into fists.

He opened his mouth and shared what had happened to him since he'd gone to Central Castle as Ed's servant. He testified of the true king locked in the damp and dark in his own dungeons, of the draining charm he'd unknowingly carried with him in the form of a carved wish, of the royal impostor who'd ordered Al sent to the Gate in a plot against the rightful leaders of Amestris, and most of all of the caring prince who'd sacrificed himself to save Al, a common citizen.

The crowd displayed mixed emotions at the news. They displayed their feelings anywhere from tears to disbelief, but the one who stuck out the most to Al was a blue-eyed girl who was hanging onto his every word. She bit her lip every time Al spoke of his brother in danger, and she wasn't the only one worrying about the crown prince: Al saw at least an old lady and a few other villagers looking like they wanted to do something about his brother and the Gate.

"Will he be okay?" the girl asked, her eyes locked on Al.

"I believe so. I don't know enough about sorcery to have a clue how he's planning to do it, but he swears he'll get out of there and come take his kingdom back."

Armstrong flexed his muscles at the mass. "Take a good look. As reliable as these muscles are, Prince Edward Hohenheim is even more reliable. He will come and save Amestris, but each of you must decide whether you're on his side or the impostor's."

But not everyone assembled was as sympathetic to their cause as the girl was. Sitting on one of the padded chairs on Al's left was one of the nobles, dressed in white fur robes that fell loose around him when he stood up. "Lies!" he hissed. "Prince Edward merely wants our support in killing his own father, so he hired an actor as his spokesman. Long live King Van!"

As the populace turned to look at the earl, Armstrong growled under his breath, "Kimblee!"

Al whispered a question to the knight. "Who's he?"

"Zolf Kimblee, the Earl of Risembool. Mustang and I believe he was one of the ones responsible for helping Father take King Van's throne." Armstrong's muscles were flexing as though the knight were restraining himself from physically attacking the earl.

Whispers were breaking out among the citizens of Risembool as they looked between Kimblee and the representatives from Central Castle. Several glares were sent the way of the latter. Only a few glares, like those from the girl and the old lady Al had noticed, were directed at the earl instead.

Al knew his brother had asked him to get their belief. "Prince Edward only wants to defend this country!"

Kimblee threw back his head and laughed. "Pray tell, how can that half-mortal prince do a better job than King Van? If he truly loved this country, he wouldn't take it by force. It's just greed lowering him to the level of common thieves, and how can a man like that expect to legitimately win against a full-blooded sorcerer in the right?"

With a calm smile on his face, but not a kind smile by any means, the earl met Al's eyes. "He can't win. A commoner might as well be trying to take over this country for all the good it will do."

The blue-eyed girl cried out from the audience. "Prince Edward is not a lowly thief like you! You're one of the nobles that helped that Father steal the kingdom from his father, aren't you?"

She turned to the rest of the crowd. "Don't any of you remember meeting Prince Edward at Central Castle? I remember a time when he helped me keep some unruly knights away from my father's unfinished goods, and I know there must have been times he's helped the rest of you out too. Right now, he is asking us for help to set things right."

The crowd debated among themselves, louder and louder. As they did so, Kimblee approached Al. "Your brother can't win, you know."

Al's eyes went wide. "How do you know who I am?"

Kimblee continued. "Your brother had just as much mortal blood as you do. Do you honestly think he can protect you?"

But Al had already fallen for much the same words as part of Pride's trap. He wasn't falling for the same lie twice.

Something hit Al from behind, knocking him to the cobblestones and covering him in Armstrong's muscular mass in time for a flying bomb to explode overhead. Armstrong let Al up, but the knight had been hit by the shrapnel himself. "Run, Prince Alphonse Hohenheim."

The knight blacked out.

The peasants were screaming. They started running everywhere, but Al didn't join them.

"You put my father in prison." He looked directly at Kimblee, fists clenched. Drawing Ed's sword, Al cried, "For King Van!"

Kimblee grinned. He picked up the seat from behind him and threw it at Al. Al dodged and the seat hit the crate behind him and exploded.

Al glanced back at the scorched street and smoking rubble. Had the earl just used magic?

He tightened his grip on his brother's sword. Silently pleading for his brother to help him, he rushed at Kimblee and managed to make the earl take several steps back, but Kimblee bought himself some time by throwing another exploding chair at him.

Al leaped aside, dropping Ed's sword in the process. He'd have to retrieve it later, but Al was more comfortable with hand-to-hand combat anyway.

As Al was catching Kimblee with a roundhouse kick, the blue-eyed girl from earlier returned to the scene with some swords. She was calling for everyone on Prince Edward's side to come fight, distributing the weapons.

A few people from the village got a sword from the girl and joined in the fight. They too went after Kimblee.

Kimblee clapped his hands together and spread them out like they were the wings of a bird of prey, soaring down for the kill. A large storm cloud appeared over Kimblee's head and an angry-looking humanoid being of flaming stone materialized, roaring at the villagers.

"We need a better sorcerer," Al said, sudden clarity coming to his mind. He looked at the citizens of Risembool fighting alongside him. Many of them were holding their swords insecurely, using grips that could easily get their swords knocked out of their hands. They were all covered in dirt and wood dust from Kimblee's earlier explosions, and several of them sported cuts and bruises already. Al thought that these people were going to get killed if he allowed them to fight Kimblee any longer. "Retreat!" he called.

As the villagers around him fled, Al clapped his own hands together. "I look to you."

He could easily imagine someone coming to his aid this time, and it was the older brother he supposed he must finally trust enough to protect him. Time seemed to slow down – the evil being Kimblee had summoned moved toward Alphonse at the pace of a slug – and Al felt an incredible feeling of calm radiating from around him but most of all from the charm around his neck. In Al's mind, Ed's figure stepped out of a cloud, right between him and the inhuman thing attacking him, still covered in the Gate's black gunk that was quickly dissipating. Ed's figure pulled out a sword identical to the one that still lay on the wet, cold ground where Al had dropped it.

And the image became real. A helper from the magic realm materialized in front of Al, taking the form he'd imagined. It pointed its sword at the incoming demon and rushed at it.

Al turned and ran to Armstrong, who was starting to stir, hoping that the magic would buy them enough time to get the knight back on his feet. "Armstrong, he's got magic."

The knight sat up. "Stay back, Prince Alphonse!" Reaching down toward the cobblestones, Armstrong levitated several hefty chunks of rock out of the town square and sent them hurling at the traitorous earl. Kimblee was knocked unconscious, but his conjured help remained, still clashing with the being Al had summoned.

"I've got to end this." Al went and picked up his brother's sword.

"No, it's too dangerous!" cried Armstrong. "You haven't been trained to fight."

"Actually, I have some training." Al looked back at Armstrong to give the knight a reassuring smile. "Besides, I'm wearing one of my brother's protective charms, and I know he'll protect me. I've just got to fight."

Al went and ganged up with the image of Ed against the flaming stone being. He laid a few blows on their opponent and received some nasty-looking second-degree burns for his troubles on his hands and wrists, but not once did a strike from any part of his enemy's body get him in any place more important or do more damage than blister his skin.

When Al finally managed to thrust his sword into where the creature's heart would be if it were it human, the creature let a scream rip that Al was almost certain could be heard from the Gate itself.

Al then heard the sound of cheering. He saw supporters from the village pick up their swords, ready to follow him and Armstrong into another, more remote, battle. One of the village men picked up Kimblee's limp body and dragged it away.


	8. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

It was done. Ed finished paying for Amestris. Now it was time for the trade.

The inside of the Gate was still dark, painful, and stifling, but at least Ed no longer had to experience the pains and sorrows of his country. He pushed his hands out through the sludge until they made contact with the giant stone Gate and pushed it open.

The crown prince took a step forward and the tar-like stuff inside the Gate turned into thin black hands pulling him back. "You like trades, right? I'm offering you one last one."

When the prince made his offer – Father and his seven advisers for his freedom – most of the black hands let him go. Eight still remained, returning to their tar form and wrapping themselves around him. One attached itself to Ed's chest, directly over his heart. Two wrapped around his hands, two around his wrists, two by his feet, and one around his side.

"Insurance, right?" Ed asked. "If I don't hold up my end of the bargain, you'll drag me back."

The Gate didn't answer, but it didn't really have a voice to speak for itself. Ed smirked at it. "You won't be seeing me again."

He turned his face away from the Gate and saw two creatures standing with him in the white void between worlds. "Looks like the first two installments of that payment are already here."

* * *

Al met up with Mustang in Dublith, the last stop before they returned to Central Castle to confront Father. A little better on a horse now, he trotted into the familiar streets on his brother's white steed.

He reported to Mustang how things had gone in Risembool and a few other villages that he and Armstrong had stopped by before the muscular knight had led the recruits back toward the castle.

Mustang had a few updates of his own – he and Basque Grand had not found Father, but they did manage to stop two of his advisers: Lust and Gluttony. Although they'd searched the castle before they'd left and found nothing, the knight suspected that at least one of Father's otherworldly creatures was still at Central.

Mustang and Al had a crate brought to the town center as a makeshift stage. The snow had melted away since Ed's coming-of-age festival in the winter, but the surrounding buildings were the same as ever, if a little less white.

Al stood on the crate in front of the town's towering community center, Dublith Royal. He saw the Curtises and Cornello in the crowd. He didn't think he could ever forget the proud look his foster parents were giving at him, holding each other and beaming at him, but he couldn't forget the look Cornello was giving him either. The man, dressed in a fine black cloak, had his teeth bared and his eyebrows pulled down almost into his eyes.

Still, Al got up on the crate and told his village all that had happened to him since he'd left for the castle. His story was met there with lots of laughter and scorn, even when Mustang and the Curtises backed him up.

"I know they're rich, but how could Sig Curtis' brat be important enough for Prince Edward to rescue?"

Another villager, a wavy-haired woman named Rose, shook her head. "Didn't Cornello tell us of Prince Edward's evil when he came through here, claiming his magic had always been fake? Cornello said King Van took the prince's magic away as punishment for rebellion."

The villagers listened to Rose and Cornello. They came forward in a wave and seized Al and called for his neck at the gallows.

Al could not remember ever seeing anyone executed in Dublith, but the villagers were cheering as if they were excited to watch him die. He searched out his parents and Mustang among the mob.

Sig was muscling his way through the crowd, and Izumi was threatening anyone who dared to hurt her baby, landing some fists in the other villagers' faces.

The young prince saw Mustang standing away from the crowd, holding his hand up as though posed to snap, and the disturbing image that Al had seen shortly after moving to the castle came back. Shou Tucker had burned for his use of magic….

Then Al saw flames outside his mind. Just ahead of the crowd burned the largest bonfire Al had ever seen, with no apparent fuel either. Suspended at about the height of a fist, the fire's base burned close to white. The flames shot up to a typical adult's chest-level.

Goosebumps rose up on Al's arms despite the heat.

"Release him!" Mustang stood confidently away from the crowd. He held his right hand up, elbow bent at a near right angle. His fingers were posed to snap again.

Cornello was calling out his own commands. "He's a blasphemer. Throw him in the fire. Kill them all."

Al was jostled through the crowd and thrown at the giant fireball. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end. He thought he could feel it burn him before he even reached it.

He hit the ground. The cobblestones underneath him were warmed by the flames, but Al himself felt just fine. Looking up, the young prince saw that the flames were still burning and he was lying in the middle of them. But they were doing him no harm.

If anything, the flames were warm, but they felt safe, much like his brother's magic. The young prince tried to see through the crowd to Mustang, but all he could see was the fire and an assortment of pants and skirts.

For a moment, a memory rose in Al's mind – he was sitting in the kitchens with his brother after Tucker's execution, and Ed promised him that Mustang wouldn't burn Al. His eyes wandered in Mustang's direction, mind wondering if this was what Ed meant, and that's when he saw Cornello making his way through the crowd.

The government worker got to the front, hand reaching toward Al. "It's just an illusion."

Al crab-crawled away from Cornello's hand, only to stop and stare, eyes wide as the man yelped and pulled his hands away from the flames.

"I told you to let him go!" Mustang parted the sea of people just by walking toward them. He led the Curtis couple behind him, first through the crowd and then the flames. Several Dublith residents trailed behind them but stopped short in front of the fire.

Mustang turned around to face Dublith over the blaze. "Anyone willing to join us in regaining Amestris, step forward – the flames won't hurt you."

A couple more people came forward. Al recognized Riza Hawkeye and Kain Fuery, stepping through the flames without even having their clothes singed.

"Now on to Central. We'll get you weapons at camp."

* * *

Three days after he'd gone to the Gate, Ed landed on the hard stone floor of his chambers, mouth dry, lips chapped. Six of the eight Gate portions followed him into Amestris, the two that had wrapped themselves around his hands now gone.

Because he knew the battle hadn't started yet, Ed would get himself some food and water. He needed it after the time he'd spent without it at the Gate, so he pushed himself up and slipped down to the kitchens.

A kitchen boy looked over as Ed pushed open the wooden door. "Your Highness?"

Ed set the servant at getting some bread and water. He drained the water in one go and started munching on the bread with one hand, holding his cup up for a refill. "Is everyone alright here?"

"We're just spooked is all, what with that army gathering out there. We don't know when they're going to attack."

Ed smiled. Outside was the army come to help take down Father – he'd lived through enough people being called to Central. "It's alright. They're here to deal with the one impersonating me. But you and the others might want to find some cover – I'm expecting an earthquake."

The prince hastily finished his meal and was off. He'd made a bargain with the Gate, and he had to hold up his end of it, especially with everyone who'd be pulled back to the Gate with him if he failed. Everyone he'd payed for was still on the line.

He descended the winding stairs down to the dungeons, keeping an eye and an ear out for any sort of presence. The castle was quiet – only a few servants running around. While Ed knew that Father had left to spread lies about him and his family throughout Amestris, he couldn't see Father bringing his entire entourage with him – someone had to stay behind to hold the castle.

The prince got all the way to his father's cell without running into anyone affiliated with his enemies, holding a small fire in one hand, much like Mustang had on their previous trips down there. He saw his skeletal father, chained to the ground. "Dad, I've been to the Gate, seen the magic realm. I know how to unseal you now. It might cause a lot of damage though."

"The stand-still's broken then?"

"Yeah." Ed let the fire in his hand go out and bent down to place his palms on the cold, gritty floor instead. The earth itself shook. The prince couldn't see what was going on, but he felt the tremors and heard the rocks and earth and metal groaning and creaking as he kept the quake up. Light trickled in from above as the castle's foundation tore itself open, taking some of the wall with it. Dirt and pebbles fell on top of him, but Ed kept his magic going until there was a bright flash in front of him, signaling that the seal had broken.

He sat back, pale, but not as pale as his father, whose cell had broken open during the quake. His bonds too were opened, lying on the floor, cleanly cut from Ed's magic.

King Van shakily got to his feet and wobbled over to his son. He put a hand on Ed's shoulder. "The last few days have taken a lot out of you, haven't they? Not just here, but trading yourself for Al at the Gate too."

Ed met his father's sunken eyes. "How…?"

"Mustang told me." The king held up one of Ed's hands and found the Gate's tar on his wrist. "You're not quite free yet either."

Ed lowered his head, leaning further into the dungeon wall. "I didn't know what else to do."

"You've done more than anyone has done before. Come – we have troops waiting outside. We can rest there." King Van looped his arm under Ed's shoulder, and Ed forced himself to his feet. They stumbled forward.

They hadn't gone far before they found out who had been left behind to guard the castle.

"Pride." Ed spat out the word. "It figures they'd leave the strongest to keep this place."

* * *

The camp felt the earthquake too. Camp had been set up on a grassy hill with a good view of the castle and surrounding area. Its trees had been cut down long ago, but the quake still frightened horses and knocked down tents and hitching posts, setting some of the animals loose to run off their own way.

"It came from the castle," Mustang said, looking at the building that had cracked from its foundation.

Al grabbed his sword. "Has Amestris ever felt something like that before?"

"Not in centuries. I don't think it was a normal earthquake either." The knight made his way around to all the fighters gathered there. "Pick up your weapons. We're heading to the castle!" He looked at Armstrong. "You lead the way with me."

When the nearly two hundred troops had been gathered, Mustang and Armstrong led the way to the castle. They didn't go through the gates but through a tunnel whose entrance had been hidden under a large rock. Armstrong jumped down first and Mustang followed close behind him, lighting the way with a fire in his hand.

Before long, they came to a place where the tunnel had been blocked off by fallen earth and Al discovered why Armstrong had been chosen to lead the troops into the castle with Mustang – the muscular knight went straight up to the cave-in and sent his fist at it. Slowly, the tunnel started reshaping itself to the way it must have looked before the earthquake.

Al walked up close to Mustang. "I didn't know we had a secret tunnel."

"I used it to sneak you out past Father and his allies when you were a baby. Never told your brother about it – couldn't have him sneaking off to Risembool on me. But either Armstrong or I were always here to get your brother out if we needed to."

The tunnel was cleared shortly and the troops continued on their way, stopping only another time or two to clear up earthquake damage. When they emerged, they found themselves coming out from inside the wall surrounding the castle itself. They were on the same field where Al had gone with Armstrong to apply for his servant job.

Al took a look behind them to see what the exit was, but all he saw there was a regular guard wall. "I've still got a lot to learn about magic, don't I?"

"Just keep at the ready." Mustang had his sword in his hand and was looking around the empty grounds. His eyes caught on the castle's shadow, in which darker tendrils of shadow were pooling. A red eye popped open and stared right at their army.

Al's breath caught in his throat. The last time he'd fought that thing, he hadn't stood a chance!

He mentally chastised himself as he remembered his brother's protective charm hanging around his neck. Al gripped his sword and looked to see where the shadows were coming from.

"Let me see your sword."

When Al looked at Mustang, he saw that the knight's own sword was now dancing with flames like the knight had used to light the tunnels. He quietly handed it over and got it back, blade covered with the same flames.

The young prince ran to the doors, but when he tried them they were barred. Then an arrow embedded itself into the wood, only an inch from his head.

When he turned around, he saw the troops in battle. What looked like his brother stood on the castle walls, watching as knights, large animals, and some seemingly-human creatures attacked their side.

Al gave up on the doors and ran to fight a wolf that was calling out orders in human speech instead. When he next glimpsed the window, the shadows had disappeared. Why had Selim left them alone?

* * *

King Van let go of Ed, giving him a weak shove toward the fissure in the castle. "Get out of here."

Ed was knocked back onto the ground, but he got right back up with more energy than he'd displayed after breaking his father's seal. "You'll get sealed up again. Or worse."

He tried to run forward as dozens of shadows rushed at his father, but his foot caught in the crack and he tripped. The king clapped his hands together and dozens of beings appeared in a lake of clouds, each carrying a flaming sword.

"My body's weak, but my magic's still strong. You get out of here. Go command the troops."

Ed pulled himself up. "Fine, but you'd better be okay when I see you again, you stupid old man!" He started climbing the crack in the ground. By the time he got out, he heard the sounds of battle. Swords were singing a bloody song of metal against metal and people were bellowing.

He took a look and saw a bunch of commoners, armed with swords and pikes, fighting alongside the knights on his side. They'd been joined by many creatures from the magical realm, hovering slightly above the grass as they scored blows on Father's hosts. "Did Dad do that?"

Ed spotted his younger brother in the middle of the fighting, using his flaming sword against the speedy attacks of giant man he knew as Sloth. "Al!"

The prince ran forward, but Al had the adviser handled by the time he got there. Al held his sword sideways and bent down to hold it at just the right level to trip Sloth. The giant went down, making a small crater in the grassy ground. Al put his sword to the small of the giant's back.

Ed dodged a few combatants locked in battle as he made his way to Al and the fallen adviser. He grabbed Sloth's leg and a piece of the Gate unwrapped itself from around his wrist and vanished along with Sloth in a flurry of black hands.

"Brother, you're back!"

He managed a weak smile toward his younger brother. "Yeah, Al. Good job just now." Ed's body was reacting, filling with energy, to being on an active battlefield, but it was still weak from channeling all that magic through it the last several days and from freeing his father. His legs were shaking and his arms were trembling.

Al noticed. "You're not okay, are you?"

"I think I need a sword or something." Ed was tired, but as long as his family and his country were still in danger, he intended to keep fighting. "I still have to get Father and the rest of his advisers."

"Look out!" Al pulled Ed down to the ground, just as an ugly giant bird came swooping at him, one of Father's talking animals. Chest flat against the grass, Al brought his hands together. "I look to you."

Ed saw a being with a golden braid and what looked like the princely red coat he sometimes wore materialize. "Is that me?"

Al grabbed Ed's elbow. "Let's get you out of here." The crown prince was pulled toward the castle wall and then inside it, where there was a hollowed-out niche with stairs leading up from an underground tunnel, obvious now that they were inside it.

Sunlight still streamed inside the tunnel entrance, but no one outside so much as looked their way. It was as though they were invisible, and since Ed hadn't been able to see the tunnel from outside, they probably were magically concealed. Ed briefly wondered how long the tunnel had been there and how Al had known about it before he had, but he brushed those questions off for a more important one. "What are you doing?"

"You're in no shape to fight right now. You'll only get yourself killed, and then where would we be?" Al met his brother's eyes, his own still a golden brown from the disguise his brother had given him. "You can challenge them directly when you're up for it, but for now, leave it to us."

Unlike the day that Ed had first seen his brother, his brother showed no signs of shyness or nervousness around him. If Al wasn't standing as tall as he could, it was only because he was fresh from the battlefield. Ed knew that some of it had to do with Al fighting for his life, but he was glad his brother was more confident at the moment – Al needed the confidence.

Still, Ed crossed his arms. "You expect me to stay here and rest while my people are just outside, getting killed?"

"If you want to save anyone, you'll have to." Al mimicked his brother's body language and engaged in a staring contest.

As the unspoken moments dragged on between the two, Al's eyes remained locked on his brother's until Ed finally gave in. "Just a quick break."

Al gently punched Ed in the shoulder and smiled. "I know you can do it."

Ed did have a few last words to his brother before Al rejoined the battle. "Tell Mustang that Dad's in the dungeons and needs help."

Al's eyes widened. "With Selim?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah. Please tell him."

"I will."

"And Al? Be safe."

"You too, Brother." Al looked around for Mustang and ran out toward the knight.


	9. Chapter VIII

**Finished! Here's probably the last chapter for any multi-chapter story from me for at least a while. I've been starting to get busy with moving to another country only next month. I'll write when I can, but since I'm not planning on posting anything I can't finish quickly. I should still be able to post a few oneshots and poems ocassionally, but I'm not promising anything. Anyways, thanks for reading and supporting this story. Please review.**

* * *

Chapter VIII

Al found Mustang in the middle of the battle. The knight was as soaked in sweat as Al was, beads dripping down his face and neck. Undoubtedly, his shirt was clinging to his skin over his dull and chinked mail as he took on a large green dragon.

The man was teamed up with another knight, an aging man with a deformed face whose skin clustered in bags in some areas and stretched out in others. Mustang was burning the dragon with floods of bright flames while the deformed knight was walking closer to the beast in its blind spot, one arm held up.

With the way the dragon was wriggling around, Al had little doubt the deformed knight would soon be spotted. He held his sword in front of him. He didn't know what good a flaming sword would do against a dragon, even the beast wasn't as fireproof as Al would have thought, but he could distract the thing long enough for the older knight to sneak up on him, right?

Al met Mustang's eyes and nodded toward the dragon. Mustang nodded, smirking. He stood still and watched as Al rushed forward, blade striking against the creature's cheek.

Roaring, the dragon turned toward Al. "You! You and your brother tied me up in a pillow case and threw me out into the winter snow. Me, Envy!"

Al was temporarily stunned. "You're the magic snake?"

The dragon, Envy, coiled back as though to strike at Al, but it coiled straight back into the deformed knight. There was a bright light and Envy's form evaporated away, leaving behind a tiny green lizard-like monster.

Al stared. "Is that one of Father's advisers?"

"Yes," the deformed knight said, picking Envy up by his tail.

"Brother's resting in the tunnel. He knows how to deal with what's left."

The knight nodded and ambled off right away.

Al stepped closer to Mustang and gazed at the deformed knight. "Will he be okay?"

"Sir Marco should be able to take care of himself. Just keep fighting."

"I understand. We should head to the dungeons then. Brother says Selim's down there with our dad."

The two of them fought their way out of the fray and broke into the castle itself via the fissure left by Ed's earthquake, but down inside, they only found a shape sitting against a wall that was dimly lit by the sunlight streaming in from outside. Mustang lit a fire in his hand and held it, revealing that shape to be the king, panting and out of breath.

"Dad!" Al bounded to his father's side, Mustang right behind him.

"Your Majesty!"

King Van looked up at the two of them with sickly eyes. "I'm afraid my body isn't in as good condition as it used to be."

Al knelt down on the damp floor, ignoring the mud being pressed onto his pants. "Are you alright?"

The king raised a thin, trembling hand and ran it over Al's cheek. "You're covered in cuts and bruises. You've been burned by something too."

"I'm in good shape considering the battle out there. Brother made a protective charm for me."

King Van smiled. "I'm proud of you. How's Edward holding up?"

"He's exhausted. I made him rest in the secret tunnel."

"I sent him to command the troops. Does someone have that covered?"

Mustang nodded. "We were engaged in one-on-one combat by the time he got out there. Your reinforcements helped a lot. Edward says he needs to send Father and his advisers to the Gate."

"I know." Hohenheim turned his head toward the way out of the dungeons. "I have one of them contained up the hall."

"Can Al handle taking them to Ed? I'd like to move you someplace safer."

King Van shook his head. "I'm safe enough down here. Besides, that thing shouldn't be given a chance to escape." Emphasizing his first point, an otherworldly helper appeared by his side with a bow and a quiver of flaming arrows.

Al's breath caught in his throat as he looked at the form of a beautiful woman. She had deep auburn hair, a soft smile, and green eyes that looked gently toward him. He could swear he recognized her from the images on all the lucky cards Mister Cornello had tried to sell him over the years he was longing to be reunited with his family: this being took the form of Queen Trisha, Al's mother.

The king took his hand off his youngest's face. He was looking at the being guarding him and smiling, but when he spoke, it was to Al. "Bring your brother here. I've got something to give him."

"I will. Are you sure you're okay down here?"

Ed watched his father one moment longer. King Van slumped against the cold, dirty, black dungeon wall and was snoring softly, exhausted after what he'd sacrificed to give Ed his gift. His hands were balled up into fists. "You stupid old man," Ed said, but it was no more than a whisper. He didn't really want to disturb his father's rest, and besides, he still had work to do.

Ed turned and walked further into the shadowy dungeons, looking around for the defeated little boy that was Pride. After a few minutes, Ed heard a voice.

"Brother, what did Dad give you?"

The crown prince saw his younger brother, illuminated primarily by the flames coming off his sword, with the glow from a magical seal giving everything a red tone. He was standing in the dungeon hallways, near the cell containing Pride, whom Ed had come to collect. "Al?"

"You're tense. You don't look tired anymore, but you're upset about something."

Ed nodded stiffly. "Dad sacrificed too much to get me the edge against a full-blooded sorcerer like Father that I need. Tell you about it later – I've got to go fight."

Al's voice was gentle when he next spoke. "I thought you might. I knew you might need your sword, so I grabbed a spare one out of the armory so I could return yours to you."

Al knelt down to place the flaming sword on the ground in front of Ed, seeing as how he could not hold it by its fiery blade to hand it over to his brother. Before Ed knelt down to pick it up, he held out his hand to Al. "Let me see your sword for a moment."

Al complied, and in a moment, the spare sword too was covered in flames. The hallways were that much brighter for it and Ed could see the way Al was drooping there in the hallway. He was smiling, but there were injuries on Al's face that made his smile seem more ironic.

Ed loosely punched Al's chest. "Dad and I have got this, okay? If you're tired, you should take a break."

Al nodded. "Go get Father. I believe in you."

As Al sat down in the dungeons to rest, Ed released the magical seal on the cell in which Pride sat against a wall, too weak to move. The prince bent down to touch Pride's cold skin and the piece of the Gate around his side unwrapped and took the evil spirit back with it. "With all the fallen advisers the knights brought me after Mustang and Marco spread word of where I was, that's the last of them. All that's left is Father himself."

Ed marched back to the fissure and grasped the rough stones where the castle's foundation was split and pulled himself up, climbing out onto the green spring grass.

He turned his face upward, catching sight of the blue sky spattered with clouds beyond the castle walls. In between him and it was his opponent, whose red coat and golden braid were visible from down on the grounds. Ed went to the stairway and climbed up toward the wall-walk. "You."

Father turned. He was fresh, not even having cause to have broken a sweat or dirtied his hands. "You really did escape the Gate."

Ed smirked, readying his sword. "Did you doubt me?"

What came next was the biggest magic battle that anyone in Amestris would ever have heard of. Ed pulled a rift to the magical realm right open and allied beings came to aid his dimension freely and unhindered; Father raised his hands palm-up on either side of him and all the castle's fallen rose to his aid slowly and soullessly.

Magical and Undead beings clashed all over the wall-walk and up and down the walls themselves. Ed himself seemed to transform into one of the otherworldly beings that a magic-user could call upon for aid, his magic more powerful than it had ever been. Magical light and magical darkness battled for ground over the whole castle.

Ed had to fight his way through what seemed like thousands of pale, rotting, or skeletal warriors to reach Father. With more magic going through his body than it was used to, adrenaline and determination were the only things that kept him going.

The prince didn't know how long it took to reach Father, but he knew it was a while. When Ed reached him, they engaged in a sword fight. Ed's sword was flaming, but Father's was coated in a green slime that Ed thought might be poison.

Father backed Ed up against the precipice. He struck at Ed's throat, but Ed shielded himself with his sword, getting himself nicked in the cheek instead. He brought his knee up and got Father under the belt.

With the armor Father wore, Ed's knee wasn't as effective a weapon as it could have been, but Father still lowered his sword for a moment, hands going toward the pain. Ed knocked him over with a fist to the jaw and pinned him down on the wall-walk as the black tar over his heart peeled off in the form a thin hand attached to a skinny arm and went down to get the corrupt sorcerer.

Ed sunk down against the precipice. As the world was fading, he saw the Undead fall again and the summoned helpers vanish. A cheer from down on the main battleground rose, loud enough to penetrate Ed's failing senses.

Al knew someone had to separate the living from the dead after the war, and he wanted to find his family to make sure they were all alive. He tried to help with that, but Mustang didn't allow him near any body that might be dead.

"There's no need. We knights are taking care of it." He steered Al off the muddy, blood-covered castle grounds and into the large, narrow banquet hall instead, where allied survivors were being gathered. Against the east wall sat the Curtis couple, who smiled when they saw Mustang with the younger prince, Izumi getting to her feet.

Al went and greeted his foster parents with a hug. His mother seemed alright, only as injured as though she'd been working out in a brier patch, and his father wasn't poorly off either. Sig Curtis was still sitting down, a simple leather shoe removed from a foot whose ankle was red and swollen.

A blond, blue-eyed girl came up from behind them. "Excuse me, is Prince Edward alright?"

It was the girl who'd stood up for Ed in Risembool. She sported many small cuts on her arms and face, and another cotton charm hung openly around her neck, resting on her light gray top.

Mustang turned to talk to the girl. "He's alive. Sir Marco's tending to him at the moment." He adjusted his footing so Al was now included in the conversation circle and introduced the girl to the younger prince – Winry Rockbell, Ed's "secret" girlfriend from Risembool. He introduced Al as Ed's brother who'd been in hiding.

"I was about to check on Ed. I'll come back with the news. You two might as well wait together."

Al smiled at Winry. She told him it was nice to meet him and sat down by the Curtis couple to wait for the knight, immediately starting to talk to Izumi about swords and knives.

With magic on their side, it took only a matter of days to clean up after the war and for the survivors to be up and about again, even if not everyone was fully healed. In that time, Al volunteered. He did things like cleaning the castle and distributing food – he had originally come to Central Castle as a servant, and they did need the extra help at the moment.

Al's eyes were back to their original golden color, but he just smiled when the servants who noticed and said anything pointed it out and said that he didn't need brown eyes anymore. Then he went back to working beside them. He didn't think they'd believe him if he was the one to tell them who he was.

He'd just finished grooming Ed's horse when his dad came into the stables and put a thin hand on his shoulder. "You've been a big help, but you didn't have to do this, you know."

Al glanced at his dirty, sweaty hands. "No task is too lowly to help out, even if I am really a prince. There's a lot that needs to be done."

"I wasn't blaming you." King Van moved his hand off Al's shoulder, instead wrapping his arm around both of his son's shoulders. "Come, I have something to discuss with you and Edward."

The two of them stopped briefly by a well for Al to wash himself off with its cold water before they entered the dark castle and climbed its tower to Ed's chambers. Ed was lying on his bed by the window, holding a thick, brown, leather-bound book above his face. His cheek was still bandaged up, and Ed was still sentenced to taking things easy, but he'd regained some energy over the last couple days and he'd been able to resume his studies.

King Van shook Ed until he had his attention.

"Dad?" Ed put the book down and sat up, now noticing his second visitor. "Al?"

"I'm no longer up to running the kingdom. I'll be going to join your mother soon."

Silence sunk into the moment, both princes looking at their father. Even if Al hadn't gotten to know his father that well, he was sad to see him go. It wasn't that long ago that he got his wish to be reunited with his family – no more than a couple months.

His brother had known their father longer. Al looked at Ed, who was looking at his lap, unusually quiet. "Are you sure you can't take your immortality back? I don't need full access to the magic realm like a full sorcerer anymore – Father's gone."

King Van sat down next to Ed on his mess of cotton and deerskin blankets. He gestured for Al to sit next to him on the other side.

The bed was softer than Al was used to. He knew he'd get moved out of the servant quarters once the battle was cleaned up, but he was still unprepared for how deeply into the mattress and blankets he sunk when he sat next to his dad. It was nice.

The king pulled both of his sons to him. "It's not like I gave you access to my magic, Edward. I only extended your own, and that cannot be taken back."

Al looked over at his family. Was the gift their father gave his brother on the day Ed defeated the one who'd been reigning over Amestris what was killing his father?

He saw Ed place his hands on his lap and dig into his dark pants with his fingers. "I'm still mad at you for that price, stupid."

"I know it's hard on you, but I had to become mortal. Once you two died, you'd never see me again otherwise. Besides, I miss your mother."

Al thought of the being he'd seen guarding his father down in the dungeons. He remembered her soft smile and the way his dad had been looking at her. "Go see Mom. We'll meet you in the spirit world."

Ed met his younger brother's eyes.

"We will see them in the spirit world, right?"

"It's not that," Ed said slowly. "I don't know if I'm ready to be king."

"Brother, you'll do great."

"I believe you're ready." King Van took his hands back from around his sons and stood up. He beamed at them. "Both of you have become fine young men, and I intend to honor you for what you did in the war before I pass the crown down to Ed. What do you want?"

Neither boy spoke for almost a minute. Finally, Al spoke up. "Dad, I appreciate the offer, but the only thing I've ever wanted was to be with my family, and I have that now. Besides, I was the one who got captured by Father, and Brother was the one who rescued the kingdom."

"You did your share too. I could at least invite the new Sir and Lady Curtis to a position here. They are your family too, are they not?"

A smile spread over Al's lips. "Thank you."

King Van's gaze turned to his eldest son, but Ed shook his head. "Like Al, I've got everything I need to be happy."

"There must be something."

"Well," Ed said at last. "I like food. I guess a feast would be nice. Say it's to celebrate getting Al back."

So a feast they had, with many carefully-arranged dishes that even Ed said he'd never tried before. Al sat with his family and tried the dishes alongside his brother – some savory, some sweet, and some spicy.

As they sat in colorful fabric, softer than Al had ever worn, King Van told the two of them stories about their mother. It was at the feast that King Van also made a few important announcements – that Prince Edward would soon be receiving the kingdom, and that Prince Alphonse was alive, being welcomed back to Central Castle that night with his rightful status.


End file.
